


Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone Abridged

by kierandell1409



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abridged, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kierandell1409/pseuds/kierandell1409
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just like Little Kuriboh and Team Four Star, I'm stepping into the abridging game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Child That Survived

Narrator: Once upon a time, there was a married couple named Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They loved each other very much and had son named Dudley. But they also had a secret: Petunia’s sister Lily was actually a witch. Why she would keep that a secret is beyond me. That sounds awesome. Maybe it’s because she’s jealous that she can’t use magic. Anyway, our story begins on Tuesday the 1st of November 1981…wait a minute, that was a Sunday. Silly Joanne. Anyway, on this dreary SunTuesday, Mr. Dursley was about to leave for work. He had no idea that this would be the last normal day of his life…  
Vernon: Bye honey, I’m off to work.  
Petunia: Remember to yell at Steve from accounting for me.  
Vernon: I never forget. Bye Duddles.  
Dudley: WAH! WAH! (Translation: my name is Dudley you uneducated oaf. Also, change me).  
Vernon: Ha ha, look at that, he thinks he can talk. Well, see you tonight.  
Dudley: WAH! WAH! (Translation: Just you wait, daddy dearest. Just you wait).  
*Vernon walks out to his car, and notices a cat reading a road sign*  
Vernon: Haha, silly cat. You can’t be famous on the Internet for doing human things yet. It’s only 1981.  
*Vernon starts driving to work. While caught in traffic, he notices a bunch of people in cloaks*  
Vernon: Haha, look at the silly young people, still dressed in their Halloween costumes from last night….even though that one’s older than me. Man, he has some serious game.  
*at lunch time, Vernon’s just leaving a bakery. More people in cloaks are around*  
Cloaked person #1: Did you hear about how He was killed?  
Cloaked person #2: Yeah, it was by the Potter boy.  
Vernon (thoughts): Potter boy? Could these weird people be some of Petunia’s sister’s people, and talking about Petunia’s sister’s son? Nah, it can’t be. Potter’s a common surname. As long as they don’t confirm my fears by saying his first name Har…  
Cloaked person #1: Yep, that Harry Potter kid is going to be really famous.  
Vernon (thoughts): Oh thank God. I thought they were going to say Harvey. There’s absolutely no connection to anything to do with me.  
*later at home, watching the news*  
News anchor Ted: And in some unusual news, owls have been seen flying around in the daytime. Like, a lot. Honestly, some serious shit is probably about to go down. Well, here’s Jim with the weather.  
Weatherman Jim: It gonna rain.  
News anchor Ted: Thank you Jim. Now, sports.  
*outside*  
McGonagall (still in cat form) (thoughts): Where the fuck is he? Did he get lost on the way here AGAIN?!  
*Dumbledore suddenly appears at the end of the road, getting rid of the street lights as he went*  
McGonagall (still in cat form) (thoughts): Okay, there he is.  
*cat walks up to him, nuzzles against his leg*  
Dumbledore: Wha? Where am I? Whose cat is this?  
McGonagall: Sir, it’s me.  
Dumbledore: Holy shit, a talking cat.  
McGonagall: Oh for Christ sake.  
*McGonagall transforms into a human*  
Dumbledore: Holy shit an Animorph.  
McGonagall: a) those books won’t exist for another fifteen years. b) You know who I am.  
Dumbledore: Oh, yes, that’s right. You’re…uh…Violet?  
McGonagall: Not for nearly thirty years I won’t be. Seriously, how do you forget your most loyal friend and supporter of the last thirty five years?  
Dumbledore: Huh? What? Oh, Minerva, when’d you get here…wherever here is?  
McGonagall: Right…moving on. Did you remember to bring the babe?  
Dumbledore: What babe?  
McGonagall: The babe with the power.  
Dumbledore: What babe?  
McGonagall: For crying out loud, the bloody Potter child.  
Dumbledore: Who do?  
*McGonagall slaps Dumbledore really hard*  
McGonagall: Do you have Harry here or not?  
Dumbledore: Oh, that. No, I got Hagrid to bring him.  
*McGonagall stares at Dumbledore at shocked silence*  
McGonagall: You’re not serious.  
Dumbledore: Why? What’s the worst that could happen?  
*Hagrid zooms past on a motorcycle, which crashes soon afterwards*  
McGonagall: Well there’s that, for starters.  
Hagrid: Sorry ‘bout that. Kinda forgot how ta land this thing.  
McGonagall: Please tell me you at least remembered to bring the child.  
Hagrid: Weeeell, I did ha’ a couple of those wood’n beer cans before I left…  
McGonagall: Those are kegs.  
Hagrid: And I did try to find out if I could do a barrel roll in this thing…  
McGonagall: Jesus fucking Christ…  
Hagrid: But I think he’s alright.  
*lifts baby Harry out of the sidecar of the motorcycle*  
McGonagall: You left the baby unrestrained in the sidecar of a motorcycle that you were riding drunk and doing aerial acrobatic stunts on?  
Hagrid: Yeah? So?  
Dumbledore: Is there a problem with that?  
McGonagall: In answer to your earlier question, THAT is the worst that could happen.  
Dumbledore: Well, time to leave him here with his only remaining family.  
McGonagall: Are you sure that’s wise sir?  
Dumbledore: Why? What’s the worst that could happen?  
McGonagall: How much do you know about these people?  
Dumbledore: Not a thing.  
McGonagall: So, they could be murderers, rapists, paedophiles, Nazis, white supremacists, members of the Westboro Baptist Church, or any horrifying combination thereof, and you’re just gonna leave him on their doorstep all night?  
Dumbledore: Yep.  
McGonagall: Just…whatever, just do it. You’ll do it no matter what I say, so just do it.  
Dumbledore: Alright then. Hagrid, would you like to do the honours?  
Hagrid: Alright, sir.  
*Hagrid throws Harry onto the Dursley’s doorstep*  
McGonagall: SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK HAGRID?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!  
Hagrid: Hey, I’m on a tight schedule. I’ve gotta get this bike back to young Sirius Black.  
McGonagall: Does he even want it back?  
Hagrid: No, but I’m gonna make him take it back.  
*Hagrid leaves*  
Dumbledore: Well, I guess we better be leaving too.  
McGonagall: Wait, didn’t the weather say there was going to be rain tonight?  
Dumbledore: Don’t worry, Harry’s got a blanket.  
*storm suddenly starts*  
McGonagall: I stand corrected. THAT’S the worst thing that can happen.


	2. The Disappearing Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the books/seen the films, you already know what's going to happen.

Narrator: And so, the Dursley’s spent the next ten years happily neglecting two children in completely different ways. Dudley became a stupid, fat moron…  
Petunia: HEY! That’s no way to talk about my Duddykins on his birthday, you unseen blithering twatwaffle.  
*electrocution sounds*  
Narrator: And that’s no way to talk to a creature that for all you know could be omnipotent. Anyway, Dudley became a moron, and Harry became an emotionally and physically abused orphan. Or, because this is a work of fiction, an orphan. Anyway, the next part of our story takes place on fatso’s birthday…  
Dudley: Mummy? What’s a fatso, and am I one?  
Petunia: *still smoking after her electrocution* Mummy feels a bit too crispy to answer right now.  
Vernon: Speaking of which, HARRY! Get your ass in here and make us some bacon.  
Harry: *enters. Sees Petunia* I think the narrator already made some.  
Vernon: HEY! No-one eats my wife but me.  
Petunia: Honey, we shouldn’t traumatise our baby with how we made him on his birthday.  
Vernon: Why? He was there when he was made.

Dudley: Mummy? Where are my presents?  
Petunia: Why, sweetie pumpkin, we gave you life.  
Vernon: And also those *points out giant pile of presents*  
Dudley: How many are there?  
Vernon: Thirty seven.  
Dudley: Is that a bigger or smaller number than the thirty eight from last year?  
Harry: Sma…  
Vernon: Bigger *through clenched teeth at Harry* If you dare make him throw a tantrum I’ll make sure you feel the full force of it.  
Harry: How exactly? He knows I didn’t have any input into purchasing the presents.  
Vernon: But he doesn’t know that he knows that.  
Harry: He also doesn’t know that magic isn’t real.  
Vernon: *eye twitch* True, true.  
Harry: What was that?  
Vernon: What was what?  
Harry: Your eye twitched.  
Vernon: Oh, hey look, Dudley’s friend Piers is here. We’ll continue this conversation never.  
Piers: WASSUP?!  
*everyone stares blankly at Piers*  
Harry: I am so glad you won’t be appearing after this chapter.  
Petunia: Alright, everyone in the car. We need to drop Harry off at Mrs. Figg’s house.

*later, at Mrs. Figg’s house*  
Vernon: Where is that woman? I’ve rung the doorbell like five times.  
*door opens to an enraged Mrs. Figg on crutches*  
Mrs. Figg: WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU oh hi Vernon.  
Vernon: What happened to you?  
Mrs. Figg: Oh, I tripped over Mittens the twenty-third.  
Harry: I thought you were up to number twenty-seven?  
Mrs. Figg: Oh I am, but the first twenty six are just so tired lately. They hardly ever move from their spot. I keep feeding the first fifteen but they keep wasting away.  
Vernon: Okay…well, can you look after Harry until we get back from the zoo?  
Mrs. Figg: Are you kidding? I’m an old lady with a broken leg. I’m practically helpless. All I need is for one of my cats to die and I’ll be a complete emotional wreck.  
Harry: Remind me again, when was the first Mittens born?  
Mrs. Figg: He’ll be fifty four next Tuesday.  
Harry: Right…you’re crazy.  
Vernon: Why do you think we leave you with her? Now, about leaving Harry here…  
Mrs. Figg: Sorry, can’t help you. I need to see if Mittens the twenty-fifth has returned after all these years *closes door*  
Harry: So, I guess you’ll have to take me with you.  
Vernon: Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?  
Harry: Well, since I’d be spending the day with you, no.  
Vernon: Oh, so now you think you’re too good to go to the zoo?  
Harry: Well, no, but…  
Vernon: Exactly, you are nothing but dust beneath my feet. Now, you are going to come to the zoo, and have a wonderful time.  
Harry: Umm…okay?

*in zoo reptile house*  
Dudley: Daddy, make the snake move.  
*Vernon bangs on the glass*  
Dudley: Harder.  
*Vernon bangs on the glass again*  
Dudley: HARDER!  
Vernon: I’m banging as hard as I can child.  
Harry (thoughts): Don’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontextdon’ttakeitoutofcontext.  
Piers: The snake’s broken. Tell them to get a new one.  
Vernon: Will do *leaves*  
Harry: Sorry about them.  
Snake: That’ssssssssss okay.  
Harry: And the snake’s talking back to me. Just like that, I learn how much ten years of neglect and abuse have fucked me up.  
Dudley: *coming back* DADDY! Harry fixed the snake.  
Vernon: Huh? Maybe he is good for something after all.  
*glass vanishes, Dudley and Piers fall in*  
Vernon: Or maybe not.  
Snake: Ssssssssssweet, I’m free. Now to ssssssssssee if I can find my old masssssssssster.  
Harry: Your sign says you were bred in captivity.  
Snake: Captivity of a dark lord issssssssss sssssssssstill captivity.  
Harry: What?  
Snake: Gotta go *slithers away*  
Vernon: YOU! HOME! CLOSET! NOW!  
Harry: So, the thing that happened that can’t be explained by science is somehow the fault of a ten year old kid without even touching anything?  
Vernon: Yes, exactly.  
Harry: Well, at least we know where Dudley gets it.  
*Vernon smacks Harry over the back of the head*


	3. Notes from Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did all these bloody letters come from?

Narrator: And so, Harry got punished for something he may or may not have had any control over. And he was punished for so long that it was the summer holidays by the time he came out of the closet…I might need to reword that. Anyway, for most of the start of the holidays, Harry did what he could to avoid Dudley and his gang…  
Piers: Does that mean I get to appear?  
*electrocution sounds*  
Narrator: …and then Piers fell into a coma because fuck that guy…wait, he’s only eleven. I’ll need to reword that one too. Anyway, when the school year started again, Dudley would be going to Smeltings Academy, the school his father was somehow able to graduate from, while Harry was to attend Stonewall High. That is, until one faithful day something odd happened…

*mail slot clicks*  
Vernon: Harry, get the mail.  
Harry: I’m making your breakfast though.  
Vernon: Damn it boy, multitask.  
Harry: What, you think I can stand here making coffee and frying bacon AND be at the end of the hall at the same time like some kind of wizard?  
Vernon: *eye twitch* Yeah, you’re right. I’ll make breakfast, you get the mail.  
Harry: Did your eye just twitch again?  
Vernon: It twitched a first time?  
Harry: …Never mind *goes into the hall and starts looking at the mail* Let’s see, postcard from Marge, bill, bill, bill, bill, death threat from Bloomsbury about this parody, and…what the? “Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.” Well, if that’s not the stalkiest thing I’ve ever read.  
*returns to the kitchen, puts all letters except his on the table*  
Vernon: Oh good, would you look at the Petunia? Bloomsbury are trying to stop Kieran making me look like an idiot.  
Dudley: Harry’s got a letter.  
Vernon: Of course he does, he brought them in.  
Dudley: But…he already put the rest of them down.  
*full minute of silence passes*  
Vernon: Hey, you’re right. Gimme that *snatches Harry’s letter* Now, who could possibly be writing to OH FUCK NO!!!  
Petunia: What is it?  
Vernon: It’s…them.  
Harry: Them who? Is it Child Protection Services telling you to start treating me like a human being instead of a freak with some kind of superpowers?  
Vernon: *eye twitch* Yeah…sure, that’s it. Harry, how would you like to move into Dudley’s second bedroom?  
Harry: *sarcastically* Hmm, let’s see. I could stay in the tiny closet under the stairs, or move to an actual bedroom, pissing off Dudley in the process? Wonder what I’m gonna choose?  
Vernon: I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you *full minute of silence* Well?  
Harry: The bedroom you dunce.  
Dudley: But…that’s mine, isn’t it?  
Harry: Not anymore, fatso.  
Dudley: Why does he keep calling me that? Is it a compliment?  
Vernon: *straining to be polite* Harry, please move your stuff before I do something that gets the real Child Protection Services all over my ass.  
Harry: But you just said…  
Vernon: MOVE DAMN IT!

*the next day*  
Vernon: *checking the mail* Ha, stupid people. There’s no Mr. H. Potter living in The Cupboard under the Stairs here. Therefore this letter has been misaddressed, and must be…  
Petunia: Dear, that says The Smallest Bedroom.  
Vernon: *rereads letter* Son of a bitch.  
Harry: Can I read my letter now?  
Vernon & Petunia: NO!

*that Sunday*  
Vernon: HA! Let’s see them deliver those letters now with no post today.  
Harry: Even though yesterday they were in the eggs instead of actual eggs.  
Vernon: Yes, but that was Saturday, when they were allowed to post them. Today is Sunday, so not one single letter will be delivered *letter shoots out of the fireplace* except that one * another letter comes through the window* and that one *fridges opens by itself, overflowing with letters* and all those ones.  
Harry: Someone really wants me to read that letter. Maybe you should just let me…  
Vernon: NO! I refuse to let you read the thing that even as your legal guardian I can’t stop you reading. On a completely unrelated note, could you all pack some clothes?  
Petunia: Why?  
Vernon: Because we are leaving in five minutes.  
Dudley: Can I bring my computer? And my TV? And my SNES? And my…  
Vernon: Son, where we’re going, there probably won’t be any power for those things to work.  
Dudley: Is that a yes?

*later, in a house on a rock in the middle of the ocean on a stormy night*  
Dudley: Daddy, I can’t find somewhere to plug the TV into.  
Vernon: That doesn’t matter son, at least we’re away from those bloody letters.  
*knock at the door*  
Vernon: It’s just the wind.  
???: Hello? Letter for ‘arry Po’er.  
Vernon: Waves crashing against the rocks.  
???: Little pig, little pig, let me come in.  
Vernon: Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.  
???: Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll…ah, fuck it *punches the door down*


	4. The Overseer of the Openers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hagrid breaks into the "house" on the rock and ruins the Dursley's attempts at hiding Harry's secret.

*door crashes onto the floor*  
Hagrid: Yeh shoulda let me in when aye asked.  
Vernon: Sir, I demand that you leave. You are breaking and entering.  
Hagrid: And who’s gonna arrest meh? The police? Your puny muggle handcuffs couldn’t even get around me pinkie.  
Vernon: *lifting a rifle* Oh yeah? Well we’ll see if you still so high any mighty with a few rounds in you *fires several shots, which do nothing*  
Hagrid: Oh for Christ sake, give me that *takes gun from Vernon, bends it around until it’s in the shape of a balloon animal* ‘appy birthday ‘arry. It’s a pig, just like your cousin.  
Petunia: Dudley is not a pig.  
Hagrid: Oh, he will be.

Harry: Okay, given that you know my name AND my birthday, would it be safe to assume you’re the stalker sending me all those letters?  
Hagrid: Weeell, not quite. I’m just the messenger *hands Harry a letter*  
Harry: I didn’t know stalkers outsourced these days.  
Vernon: You better not read that you little shit.  
Hagrid: And why not? It’s not like it’ll tell him about anything he doesn’t already know.  
Vernon: *eye twitch* Yes…of course not.  
Hagrid: Did his eye just twitch?  
Harry: It’s been doing that a lot lately, as though he’s trying to hide some really important truth from me.  
Vernon: *eye twitching rapidly* I have nothing to hide.  
Harry: Then you won’t object to me reading this letter.  
Vernon: *eye still twitching* NO! It’ll…uh…be boring?  
Harry: I have sat in a dark closet for two weeks straight before. I’m pretty sure the one and only letter that has ever been sent to me will be significantly more interesting.  
Vernon: GODDAMMIT DON’T READ THAT FU…  
*Hagrid smacks him*  
Hagrid: Next time I’ll put some force behind it.  
Vernon: I think my left eye is where my right eye should be and my right eye is where my left eye should be.

Harry: Okay, seriously? This letter is address to the spot on the floor I was sleeping. How the hell could you possibly know that prior to getting here?  
Hagrid: Messenger.  
Harry: Right, whatever. *begins reading letter* “Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The fuck is this shit?  
Hagrid: Ye know, ‘cuz you’re a wizard ‘arry.  
Harry: I’m a what?  
Hagrid: Ye know, how ye mum and dad died tryin’ ta protect ye from You Know Who?  
Harry: They what?  
Hagrid: Ye know, how for some reason You Know Who tried ta kill ye but couldn’t, even though he coulda just thrown ye out the window?  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
Hagrid: Jeez boy, are ye that daft?  
Harry: Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise this wasn’t the appropriate reaction to finding out I’m a God damn WIZARD and my parents are dead because of someone I apparently killed as a child.  
Hagrid: How could ye not know alla this? Yer uncle and aunt explained it all didn’t they? *turns and glares at Petunia and Vernon* Didn’t ye?  
Petunia: We…uh…might have forgot to mention it.  
Hagrid: Oh really?  
Vernon: Hey, come on, we’ve been busy.  
Hagrid: For ten years?  
Vernon: …Yes.  
Hagrid: Jeez, I knew ye Muggles were daft, but this is ridiculous. Well, I better start fixing the problems you created.  
Petunia: Hey, come on, we tried.  
Hagrid: You tried?  
Vernon: Yeah, from the moment you left him on our doorstep, we tried to stamp out all this magic nonsense.  
Hagrid: And aye thought those “Pray Away the Gay” guys were douchebags. Well, aye better let Professor Dumbledore know ye’ll be going to ‘ogwarts.  
Vernon: I refuse to let some crackpot old fool teach him magic tricks.  
*Hagrid glares at him for a moment, then points his umbrella at Dudley. There’s a flash of violet light, and suddenly Dudley has a pigtail*

Harry: I assume no-one allowed to talk that way about this Dumbledore guy?  
Hagrid: Actually, what he said was true. I just felt like doing that. Now, where’s that…ah, here it is *pulls out an owl*  
Harry: Has…has that been sitting in your pocket this whole time?  
Hagrid: Hey, I only sat on ‘im twice *throws owl out into the rain*  
Harry: Shouldn’t you have given it a message first?  
Hagrid: Oh, right *chases owl into the rain*


	5. Horizont Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or maybe it was Vertic Alley they went to.

Harry: *waking up* Whoa, I just had the craziest dream that my uncle took us to a shack in the middle of the ocean in order to hide from my mysterious stalker, and then some giant dude busted down the door and told me I was a wizard *sees Hagrid asleep on the couch* and apparently I’m still dreaming.  
Hagrid: No you’re not *something hits the window* Ah, that’ll be me copy of the Daily Prophet.  
Harry: The what now?  
Hagrid: Blimey, how do you not…oh, right, ignorant muggles. Forgot.  
Harry: Speaking of which, did you really give Dudley a pigtail last night?  
Hagrid: Heh heh, yeah, that was fun.  
Harry: That was kinda cruel, wasn’t it?  
Hagrid: I thought you hated them.  
Harry: I didn’t say I didn’t approve.  
Hagrid: Excellent. Now, let’s go get your stuff for the school year.  
Harry: And we’re just gonna leave the Dursley’s on this rock with no way of getting off?  
Hagrid: Yes.  
Harry: Excellent.

*they go outside and find the owl lying on the ground below the window*  
Hagrid: Aww, the poor thing broke its neck.  
Harry: What do we do with it?  
Hagrid: *setting the owl on fire* Breakfast.  
Harry: Was that your owl?  
Hagrid: No, but who’s gonna stop me?  
Harry: Fair enough.

*later, at the train station in the town*  
Guy selling train tickets: Sir, these aren’t real coins.  
Hagrid: ‘course they are. I buy stuff with ‘em all the time.  
Guy selling train tickets: Sir, English currency is made of copper. This appears to be made of gold.  
Hagrid: So it’s worth more than normal money?  
Guy selling train tickets: Well, yeah, but…  
Hagrid: Great, you just keep that there wizard money, and I’ll *sees ticket guy staring at him* oh, uh…AMNESIA DUST!  
Guy selling train tickets: Amnesia what? *Hagrid punches him in the face*  
Harry: That wasn’t dust, that was a punch.  
Hagrid: ‘arry, I’m roughly twice the size of Gaston, with pretty much the same muscle ratio. That guy has amnesia, regardless of whether it was from a punch or from dust.  
Harry: Hagrid, that movie you referenced doesn’t come out until November.

*later, in London*  
Harry: So, where do we get the stuff I need for school?  
Hagrid: Right through here *points at the Leaky Cauldron*  
Harry: Okay, eleven year old boy gets taken away from his family by a strange man in a trench coat who offered him sweets after tracking him across the country, and the first place we go is a rundown old pub. And yet, this is somehow still my best birthday ever.  
Hagrid: Don’t worry lad, I know this place well.  
Harry: Come here a lot, do you?  
Hagrid: Err, once or twice *enters pub*

Bartender Tom: Hey Hagrid, the usual? *pulls out two large kegs from beneath the bar*  
Harry: Once or twice, eh?  
Hagrid: I meant once or twice a week.  
Bartender Tom: Hey, who’s the kid…holy fuckballs is that HARRY FUCKING POTTER?!  
*everyone in the bar turns to look at them*  
Hagrid: Quiet Tom, we’re trying to keep a low profile.  
Bartender Tom: Fine, I won’t tell anyone you’re here with HARRY POTTER!  
*everyone in the bar rushes up to them*  
Hagrid: God damn it Tom.  
Doris Crockford: Mr. Potter, it is an honour to meet you. May I shake your hand?  
Harry: Umm…okay? *shakes her hand*  
Dedalus Diggle: Mr. Potter, please tell me you remember the time I bowed to you in the muggle mall.  
Harry: I do. My aunt called security and accused you of being a paedophile.  
Dedalus Diggle: Ah, you do remember. Such a wonderful day.  
Doris Crockford: *wearing a fake moustache and speaking in a fake accent* Ah, Mr. Potter. A pleasure to meet you for the first time. May I shake your hand?  
Harry: Didn’t I already shake your hand?  
Doris Crockford: What? No. My name Dor…ian. John Dorian. Yes, that’s it.  
Harry: Whatever you say. Just don’t space out and have a weird fantasy moment *shakes her hand*  
Doris Crockford: *snaps out of a fantasy moment* THE EELS ARE COMING!  
Quirrell: H-h-h-harry P-p-p-potter. I-i-i-I’m h-h-h-h-honoured to be m-m-m-meeting you.  
Harry: T-t-t-today sir.  
???: Are you just gonna stand there and take that? Kill the boy.  
Harry: Did you say something?  
Quirrell: N-n-n-no.  
???: But I did.  
Quirrell: Sh-sh-sh-shut up back th-th-th-there.  
Doris Crockford: *wearing a sombrero and using an even worse and racist accent* Senor Potter, might I please get to shake your hand?  
Hagrid: Alright, this joke’s gone on way to long. Come on ‘arry *drags him out the back door*

Harry: You know, somehow that didn’t change how creepy my situation was outside the pub. Especially the weird guy with the turban.  
Hagrid: Ye mean yer Defence against the Dark Arts professor?  
Harry: Oh good, I’ll be hearing more weird voices coming from nowhere.  
Hagrid: Say what?  
Harry: Nothing. So...is this where you finish your mall Santa initiation, or…  
Hagrid: Two paedophilia jokes on the same page. Kieran’s mum must be so proud. No ‘arry, this is where I do this. *Hagrid tapped a brick on the wall, and suddenly a gateway opened to Diagon Alley*  
Harry: *staring at all the magical stuff* I don’t even remember you giving me something that could drug me.  
Hagrid: Can’t you just accept that this is happening? Now come on, we have some banking to do *leads Harry into Gringott’s*

Harry: Whoa, what the fuck are those things?  
Hagrid: Those are goblins.  
Harry: David Bowie’s here?  
Hagrid: Silly Harry. He’s a king. Why would he be working in a bank?  
Griphook: Welcome to Gringott’s sirs. How may I help you?  
Hagrid: I need to withdraw some stuff from vaults 687 and 713.  
Griphook: Very well, just present the key for no. 687 and a letter of approval for no. 713 and we’ll be on our way.  
Hagrid: Hold on, get ‘em ‘ere somewhere *Hagrid starts emptying stuff out of his pockets onto the desk, including old dog biscuits, a roast chicken, several shiny stones, a broken bicycle, and Molly Ringwald’s career* Ah, here they are *presents the key and the letter to Griphook while putting all the stuff back in his pockets*  
Harry: You should probably give that back to Molly Ringwald.  
Hagrid: I’ll get around to it.  
Griphook: All right then, come along *leads them to the rollercoaster*

Harry: This doesn’t seem safe.  
Griphook: Don’t worry, if you haven’t done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about *off in the distance, one of the rails breaks for no apparent reason* Let’s go.

*while heading down to the vaults*  
Hagrid: Oh, I think I’m gonna throw up *throws up. The force from the rollercoaster’s frequent turns forces the puke back into his face* Goddammit.

*at Vault 687. Griphook opens the Vault*  
Harry: Wow, that’s a lot of money. Whose is it?  
Hagrid: It’s all yours ‘arry.  
Harry: No, seriously, whose is it?  
Hagrid: It’s…yours.  
Harry: What the fuck? Not only were my parents wizards, they were also rich?  
Hagrid: Two and a half thousand galleons isn’t that much.  
Harry: Yeah, but imagine how much I could sell all that gold for in the normal world.  
Griphook: Yes, imagine how much an eleven year old boy could sell hundreds of pounds of gold he has no way of explaining how he got for. Do you even know where you should sell it?  
Harry: …Let’s just get some cash and go.

*later, at vault 713. Griphook opens the vault*  
Harry: HA! I’m richer than whoever owns this one. All they have is a grubby little package *Hagrid takes it out* And now they don’t even have that.  
Hagrid: But what’s in the package is more valuable than anything you’ve got.  
Harry: Really? What is it?  
Hagrid: I can’t tell ye that.  
Harry: Is it the philosopher’s stone?  
Hagrid: How the hell do you know that?  
Harry: Duh, the title of this fanfic.  
Hagrid: Fine, yes, it is. But you have to pretend you don’t know until you find out.  
Harry: But I already know.  
Hagrid: I have some more amnesia dust.  
Harry: What’s in the package Hagrid?  
Hagrid: That’s better.

*later, on the street*  
Hagrid: Okay, first let’s start with getting you some robes. Madame Malkin’s the place for that.  
Harry: Are you coming?  
Hagrid: Nah, I’m still sick from those carts. I’m gonna get something from the Leaky Cauldron.  
Harry: Yeah, I’m sure alcohol never makes anyone sick.  
Hagrid: Exactly. See ya later *leaves*

*inside Madame Malkin’s*  
Madame Malkin: Oh, goodie, another young boy. Come this way, I’m put you with the other one.  
Harry: I’m just here to get some robes.  
Madame Malkin: Either way I get to strip you.  
Harry: WHAT?!  
Madame Malkin: Get over here.  
Harry: Hey, what are you…AHH! *gets dragged into a backroom*  
Madame Malkin: Oh, you two are so cute together. You are my new OTP.  
Blonde haired little shit: HEY! Don’t call me cute. I’ll tell my father about that.  
Harry: Can I just get my robes now?  
Blonde haired little shit: And can I have…you know, ANYTHING now?  
Madame Malkin: Well, I guess you are a little young to really be a couple. Here you go…um…what were your names?  
Blonde haired little shit: Draco Malfoy.  
Madame Malkin: Alright Draco. And you are…  
Harry: Taking my robes and leaving.  
Madame Malkin: Alright Taking My Robes. In a few years you two will be…hey, where’d Taking My Robes And Leaving go?  
Blonde haired little shit: Taking his robes and leaving.

*outside*  
Harry: Phew, I got away from that creepy woman.  
Hagrid: Hiya ‘arry. I got almost all the rest o’ ye stuff.  
Harry: How? You didn’t have any money.  
Storeperson: SOMEBODY STOP THAT HALF-GIANT!  
Hagrid: Come on, we gotta go get yer wand.  
Harry: Wait a sec, is that an owl?  
Hagrid: Yeah? So?  
Harry: Why would the Dursleys let me keep a freaking bird?  
Hagrid: ‘arry, now is not the time to be asking questions. I am currently being chased by five *one of the storepeople tries to grab Hagrid, Hagrid throws him against a wall* four vendors for shoplifting. Let’s just get your wand and leave.

*Harry and Hagrid enter Ollivander’s*  
Ollivander: Ah, Mr. Potter, so good to finally see you.  
Harry: Are you that Doris Crockford woman again?  
Ollivander: Ah, Doris. Dogwood, kneazle whisker core, ten inches, kinda springy.  
Harry: That does nothing to lower my suspicions.  
Ollivander: Oh, don’t worry, I just really like wands. I remember every one I’ve ever had. Nice, long, thick, smooth…  
Harry: I really hope you’re still talking about wands.  
Ollivander: Why? What else could I possibly be talking about?  
Harry: …Never mind. Can I get a wand now?  
Ollivander: Certainly. Try this one *hands him the first wand* Just grip the shaft tightly…  
Harry: Please stop talking *he flicks the wand, and a shelf explodes*  
Ollivander: Hmm, maybe not. How about this one? Just remember to…  
Harry: I don’t want your instructions *he flicks the wand, and a small section of the roof collapses* I’m going to have to pay for that, aren’t I?  
Ollivander: Not at all. I love giving kids my wand.  
Harry: Care to rephrase that?  
Ollivander: Nope. Now, let me…AHA!  
Harry: I don’t think I’m going to like the next words out of your mouth.  
Ollivander: Long and flexible, made for strong hands.  
Harry: Nope.  
Ollivander: Try it.  
Harry: Don’t really have a choice, do I? *he flicks the wand, and red and gold sparks fly out of it*  
Ollivander: I knew it. I knew the brother of the wand that killed your parents would be the right one.  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
Ollivander: Well, off you go.

*later at the train station*  
Hagrid: Well, Your train’s here to take ye back to Surrey. This is where I leave ye.  
Harry: But Hagrid, do you really think the Dursley’s are going to let me go to Hogwarts? Hell, they don’t even know I’m here, because they’re still on that rock in the ocean. Also, how am I meant to carry all this stuff by myself? *suddenly notices Hagrid’s not there* Hagrid?


	6. The Adventure from Stage 9.75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes the train to Hogwarts. And Ginny's entire character is summarised in two words.

Narrator: And so, after being abandoned at the train station by Hagrid, with no-one at home to pick him up, Harry miraculously got home perfectly fine. Seriously, this happened, and the scholars at Harry Potter Wiki missed this. Anyway, for the next month the Dursleys ignored Harry slightly more than usual, which amazingly is an improvement.  
*in the kitchen*  
Vernon: *pulling out the chair Harry’s sitting in* Oh good, an empty spot *sits down*  
Harry: I know you hate me, but did you really have to be my first lap dance?

Narrator: During this time, Harry bonded with his new owl, whom he named Hedwig .  
*Hedwig flies in through the window, carrying a dead mouse*  
Harry: Seriously Hedwig, another dead mouse? Why do you keep bringing me these? You know I don’t eat them. God, I thought owls were supposed to be wise.

Narrator: But finally, the eve of Harry’s big adventure arrived.  
*living room, the Dursleys are watching TV when Harry walks in*  
Harry: Hey, uh, would you mind giving me a lift to King’s Cross Station tomorrow?  
Vernon: Why?  
Harry: So I can get to school.  
Vernon: But why would we go all the way to London to get you to Stonewall?  
Harry: I was referring to Hogwarts.  
Vernon: But it’s your dream to go to Stonewall.  
Harry: No, that’s your dream.  
Vernon: Under my roof, you have my dreams.  
Harry: You know, I can always get Hagrid back here to take care of you.  
Vernon: Oh, Harry, you need a lift to the station? What platform is it?  
Harry: Err *checks ticket* Nine and three quarters.  
*Dursleys stare at him for a moment*  
Vernon: Petunia, is that where Lily went when going to Warthogs?  
Harry: Hogwarts.  
Petunia: Why the hell should I care?  
Vernon: You know what? We’re going into London tomorrow to get Dudley’s pigtail removed. Seriously, a boy with that hairstyle looks ridiculous. We’ll pick you up when we’re done.  
Harry: What are you talking about? Clearly it exists, otherwise they wouldn’t have put it on the ticket.

*the next day at King’s Cross station*  
Harry: Well, here I am at King’s Cross, which looks suspiciously like Euston train station. Just standing here between platforms nine and ten, which is a bad idea because there’s not actually a platform here, I’m actually on the tracks. Seriously, it’s like that woman didn’t do any freaking research on this thing. What the hell am I supposed to do?  
Red haired woman: Alright kids, off to Hogwarts you go.  
Harry: Well, that was easy.  
Molly: Percy, you first.  
*Harry watches Percy run at a wall, then disappear*  
Harry: Alright, I’m assuming whatever Hagrid gave me has worn off by now, so the only logical conclusion is that the station is held up by a holographic pillar. This is far from comforting.  
Molly: Alright Fred, you’re next.  
Fred: But I’m George.  
Molly: You’ll be a corpse if you don’t start moving.  
Fred: Pfft, like that’s gonna happen in this series *runs through wall, followed by George*  
Harry: Excuse me, how the hell are they doing that?  
Molly: Silly child, that’s a magic portal.  
Harry: Of course it is. Can I try?  
Molly: Sure, you can go ahead of Ron.  
Ron: Hey!  
Harry: Alright, here goes.  
Ginny: Hail Satan.  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
Molly: Off you go *pushes Harry through the wall*

*Harry emerges on Platform 9 ¾*  
Harry: Okay, that just happened. I’m just going to get on the train and pretend that didn’t happen. It’s not like I’ll ever see them again.  
George: Hey, kid who was stalking us on the platform. Need a hand with your luggage?  
Harry: Except for now...and every day I’m at school this year.  
Fred: Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you.  
Harry: Is my trunk on fire?  
George: Yeah, I do that from time to time.  
Fred: Wow George, that’s kind of evil.  
George: Of course it is. I am the evil twin.  
Fred: No, I’m the evil twin.  
George: You liar…wait, if you’re the good twin, and you’re lying, that must mean lying’s a good thing. I need to step my game up.  
Fred: As do I, the real evil twin.  
Molly: Whatever you’re planning, don’t. Percy, keep a close eye on them.  
Percy: Don’t worry mum. As prefect, I make a solemn vow to…  
Fred: Come on, like you could really stop us.  
George: Do you know why the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher from last year left?  
Molly: Why do you think I want him to keep an eye on you? Besides, if I’m not mistaken, Harry Potter should be starting Hogwarts this year, and I don’t want you being a bad influence on him.  
George: Oh really? And what would he look like?  
Molly: Black hair, green eyes, I think he wears glasses, and of course the lightning bolt scar.  
Fred: Kinda like this *lifts up Harry’s hair*  
*Weasley family stares in shock*  
Harry: And I am out of here *runs onto the train*  
Ron: Wait, come back *follows Harry into train carriage*

Harry: Please tell me you’re not as insane as the rest of them.  
Ron: Oh, no, I’m nothing like them.  
Harry: Oh thank God.  
Ron: But I have to tell you, I’m a huge fan.  
Harry: Oh, uh, thanks. I guess defeating a dark lord is pretty awesome.  
Ron: No, I mean a really, REALLY big fan.  
Harry: Oh shit, another stalker. Maybe if I get off the train now…  
Ron: We already left the station.  
Harry: Oh crap.  
Ron: Don’t worry Harry. I’ll be the Yuno to your Yuki.  
Harry: First of all, that’s not reassuring. Second, you’re about fifteen years early with that reference.

*food trolley comes along*  
Trolley lady: Anything off the trolley dears?  
Harry: Have you got anything hard enough to knock him out?  
Trolley lady: I think some of the Cauldron Cakes have been here a while.  
Harry: I’ll take ‘em. And some of all the other things too.  
*Trolley lady hands over the food and leaves. Harry throws Cauldron Cakes at Ron*  
Harry: Damn, didn’t work *opens a Chocolate Frog, which jumps away*  
Ron: You gonna eat that?  
Harry: I prefer that my food doesn’t move. Hey what’s this? *picks up a card* "Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of Dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling."  
Ron: Oh yeah, they have cards of famous witches and wizards with every Chocolate Frog. I’ve got hundreds of them.  
Harry: Hundreds of different ones?  
Ron: No, mostly of you *shows Harry one of his cards*  
Harry: What the hell? This picture looks like it was taken a week ago.  
Ron: It was.  
Harry: Okay, the next words out of your mouth better make me feel more at ease.  
Ron: Want me to pull out my hairy friend?  
Harry: Somehow that qualifies.  
*Ron pulls a rat out of his jacket pocket*  
Harry: Wow, that thing is old.  
Ron: Yeah, we’ve had him for like twelve years.  
Harry: Even though rats only live about three years?  
Ron: Yep.  
Harry: Okay then.

*brown haired girl enters, with a chubby kid behind her*  
Brown haired girl that you’ve probably already guessed is Hermione: Have either of you seen a toad around here? The tubby kid who the audience has already guessed is Neville lost one.  
Ron: Haven’t seen it. Now leave. I have to stare at Harry some more.  
Hermione: Harry? As in Harry Potter?  
Harry: And here’s another stalker.  
Hermione: Well, it’s not exactly stalking when you’re famous, though I am sceptical that you accomplished your feat the way they said.  
Harry: Excuse me?  
Hermione: Well, I mean, once you discount all the magic nonsense our textbooks talk about, how would a grown man get so close to killing a baby and not succeed? My guess is he realised the error of his ways and went to hide in shame for the rest of his life.  
Harry: Uh-huh. And the scar?  
Hermione: Most likely he planned to kill you as some kind of cult ritual.  
Ron: Do you not believe in magic?  
Hermione: Silly boy, of course not.  
Ron: How the hell did you get on the platform?  
Hermione: A slow moving elevator lowered us to a secret platform. This school is so high tech that they can’t just let in any riffraff.  
Ron: Where the hell do you think you’re going?  
Hermione: Hogwarts, which I believe educates students in a science so advanced they call it magic ironically.  
Neville: Hermione, we have to find Trevor. What if that Lee kid’s tarantula eats him?  
Hermione: For the last time Neville, toads eat bugs, and…hey, where’d the redhead go?  
*everyone looks around for a minute*  
Neville: Found him. He’s under the seat.  
Hermione: Fascinating. I didn’t know anyone could fit under these seats.  
Ron: Sorry, it’s a reflex to anything I hear involving spiders.  
Harry: Good to see your reflex is to hide in the place they’re most likely to be.  
Ron: They are? *suddenly tries to hide in a corner*  
Harry: That’s the second most likely.  
*Ron starts hugging his knees and rocking back and forward*  
Hermione: Well, while you scare him catatonic, we have a toad to find *Hermione and Neville leave*

Harry: Well, now that there’s some peace and quiet…*doors opens to reveal blonde haired little shit with two tough guys* And now there’s this.  
Blonde haired little shit: Hey, aren’t you that Taking My Robes and Leaving kid?  
Harry: I have a real name you know.  
Blonde haired little shit: Oh really? And what would…hold on a sec, let me just fix my name *punches name on the script*  
Draco: That’s better. Now, what would that be?  
Harry: Finally, someone who doesn’t actually know me.  
Draco: You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?  
Harry: Son of a bitch.  
Draco: Allow me to introduce myself. I am Draco Malfoy, and these guys are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.  
Crabbe: Gah.  
Goyle: Duh.  
Draco: And I believe you would be an excellent addition to my group. What do you say?  
Harry: What’s in it for me?  
Draco: You get to be my second in command.  
Harry: WHAT?! When I can push this guy around? Forget it.  
Draco: You’ll regret this. I’ll tell my father you were mean to me *leaves*

Conductor: Attention passengers, we will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station in about five minutes.  
Ron: Well, time to change into our robes.  
Harry: Okay, I’ll wait in the hall for you *heads for the door*  
Ron: Oh no you don’t *starts grabbing Harry’s clothes*  
Harry: Damn it, this is the second time this has happened.

*train pulls up at the station*  
Hagrid: A’right, first years, this way. Oh, hey ‘arry.  
Harry: Hey Hagrid. Nice to see you again after you ditched me at the station.  
Hagrid: What, your aunt and uncle didn’t pick you up?  
Harry: How could they? They were stranded on a rock. That we stranded them on.  
Hagrid: Oh, right. Well…I found this toad, if anyone’s interested.  
Neville: That’ll be mine.  
Hagrid: Excellent, we found the class loser.  
Neville: HEY!  
Hagrid: Now, off to the lake to take us to the castle.

*Hagrid leads students to the edge of the lake, where they look up and see Hogwarts*  
Harry: So, I assume we take these boats over to the castle?  
Hagrid: *getting into a boat* Yep.  
Harry: *getting into boat with Ron, Hermione, and Neville* What would happen if there was a storm?  
Hagrid: *shoving off* You just have to hope you don’t fall in.  
Neville: *following Hagrid* Is there anything dangerous in there?  
Hagrid: Just a giant squid…and the Grindylows…and the merpeople.  
Harry: Merpeople? They’re real?  
Hagrid: Weeeeell, kind of. You see, when you get a bunch of teenagers, particularly boys, and the plumbing drains into the lake, sometimes the fish…  
Harry: I think we all know where this is going.

*later, at the castle*  
Hagrid: Now, to finally end this chapter *knocks on a door*


	7. The Cataloguing Headgear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first years get sorted. Seriously, anyone who's ever read these books already knows what's going to happen.

???: We don’t want any.  
Hagrid: Uh, professor, it’s me Hagrid, with the first years.  
McGonagall: Oh, right *comes out of a door* We still don’t want any, but I suppose we should take them.  
Hagrid: Alright, well, seeya kids.  
Harry: And you’re just gonna leave us with some strange woman?  
McGonagall: Trust me, I’m much better hands to be in than Hagrid’s. At least I didn’t throw you onto your aunt and uncle doorstep from the street.  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
McGonagall: Now, you will soon be sorted into your houses. This will be determined by what sort of person you are. If you’re a brave, daring person, you will be in Gryffindor. If you are a clever, creative person, you will be in Ravenclaw. If you are an evil cun…ning person, you will be in Slytherin.  
Neville: What about Hufflepuff?  
McGonagall: Let’s go in, shall we?

*group enters hall, the rest of the student body turns and stares at them in unison*  
Harry: Yeah, that’s not gonna freak out the kids who know nothing about the wizarding world and have no idea what’s about to happen.  
McGonagall: Now, when I call your name, you will sit on this stool, facing every single person in the hall except the teachers, the only ones mature enough to not judge you…except maybe Professor McFondles.  
McFondles: I hope to see all of you in class real soon *licks lips*  
McGonagall: Why the hell did we hire you? Anyway, *pulling out battered old hat* I will put this hat on your head, and it will read your mind to tell us which house will be the most appropriate.  
Hermione: Did you say the hat will read our minds?  
Sorting Hat: Indeed she did.  
Ron: Explain that, Hermione. A talking hat that can read your mind.  
Hermione: Well, the talking is simply artificial intelligence. As for the mind reading, I expect the people at Hogwarts have been in contact with our previous schools to gather what sort of student we were so that we’ll be sorted into groups reflecting our skills, interests, and learning style, so they know how to teach us more effectively here.  
Ron: I was being rhetorical.  
Hermione: Wow Ron, that word had more than five letters. I’m impressed.  
Ron: Fuck you.  
Hermione: Not yet.  
Shippers: SQUEE!

Sorting Hat: Now, before we begin, I’d best sing my song for the year…  
McGonagall: That won’t be necessary.  
Sorting Hat: No, no I should begin *clears throat…or whatever a hat has* Oh you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge o…  
McGonagall: Hannah Abbott.  
Sorting Hat: Alright, fine, but just for that I’m going to make this kid a minor character and put her in the loser house.  
Hannah: But I’m the daughter of future Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott.  
Sorting Hat: You have done nothing to help your case. HUFFLEPUFF! *Hannah runs over to the Hufflepuff table, crying* Next victim.  
McGonagall: Susan Bones.  
*Susan comes up and sits on the stool*  
Sorting Hat: Another throwaway character, huh? HUFFLEPUFF!

Narrator: And so, one by one, the Sorting Hat worked its way through all the students…  
Sorting Hat: Well, this one is incredibly stupid…  
Crabbe: Gah?  
Sorting Hat: …but easily led. And considering who he’s led by, better make it…SLYTHERIN!  
Crabbe: Gah.  
Sorting Hat: And you can take that Gregory Goyle kid too. Seriously, I almost had an aneurism reading all that stupidity, and don’t intend to do it again.

*later*  
McGonagall: Hermione Granger.  
Sorting Hat: Finally, a character that actually does something. You’re intelligence should place you in Ravenclaw, but fuck that you’re going to GRYFFINDOR!

*later*  
McGonagall: Neville Longbottom.  
Sorting Hat: I’m sorry, could you repeat that last name again?  
McGonagall: Longbottom.  
Sorting Hat: Jesus fucking Christ, a pudgy kid with the name Longbottom? Rowling might as well have named you Neville Fatass. Well, let’s see what you…huh, interesting. Apparently you’re worthy of being in GRYFFINDOR!  
Fred: Damn it, I thought for sure he was a Hufflepuff.  
George: Pay up, brother.

*later*  
McGonagall: Draco Malfoy.  
Sorting Hat: Oh, come on. I already put his minions in SLYTHERIN! Why do we even need to do this?

*later*  
George: You owe me 13 Sickles, Fred.  
Fred: Just wait, I’ll win it back.  
McGonagall: Padma Patil.  
Fred: Gryffindor.  
Sorting Hat: RAVENCLAW!  
Fred: Fuck.  
George: 14 Sickles.  
McGonagall: Pavati Patil.  
Fred: HA! Twins. I’ve got this one. Ravenclaw.  
Sorting Hat: GRYFFINDOR!  
Fred: FUCK!

*later*  
McGonagall: Harry Potter.  
*entire hall goes quiet*  
Harry: Well, this isn’t creepy or anything. *puts Sorting Hat on his head*  
Sorting Hat: Hmm, let’s see, yes, a very good mind indeed. But where to place you?  
Harry: *whispering* Not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff, not…  
Sorting Hat: Oh, come on, no main character would ever suffer that fate. The only house you could possibly get into is GRYFFINDOR!  
*Gryffindor table bursts into cheers as Harry sits at their table*  
Harry: And with that, all the important people are sorted.  
McGonagall: Ronald Weasley.  
Harry: Like I said, there’s nobody important left.  
Dean: Hey professor, what about me?  
McGonagall: Oh, just pick a table. Nobody cares about you *puts hat in Ron’s head*  
Sorting Hat: Oh, for God’s sake, ANOTHER Weasley? Seriously, you people are like rabbits. Well, better put him with the other ones. GRYFFINDOR!  
*Ron comes over to the Gryffindor table and sits uncomfortably close to Harry*

McGonagall: Now, before we begin, your Headmaster Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words. *McGonagall turns to see Dumbledore sleeping in his chair* Professor, wake up.  
Dumbledore: Huh, wha, what? What are you people doing in my living room?  
McGonagall: Let the start of term feast begin.  
*food appears on the table in front of them*  
Percy: Now students, let’s show how polite and mature we can…  
George: FOOD FIGHT! *flings whole roast chicken at the Hufflepuff table*  
Percy: Every. Freaking. Year.  
Fred: No it’s not. I usually start it.  
Nearly Headless Nick: May I join, boys?  
Fred: How can we say no to you, Nick?  
George: Easy, just say no. But we won’t because we’re nice guys.  
Nearly Headless Nick: Why thank you. HEADS UP, BARON! *throws an entire tray of Yorkshire Puddings*  
Harry: Is no-one going to explain why there’s a ghost here?  
Percy: Because sometimes dead people don’t stay dead. Sir Nicholas here is the resident house ghost of Gryffindor.  
Ron: You mean that’s Nearly Headless Nick?  
Nearly Headless Nick: *sigh* I guess you want me to show you how that’s possible.  
Harry: No, there’s no need to *Nick shows how that’s possible* And I’ve lost my appetite. Hey, who’s that creepy looking guy?  
Percy: Professor McFondles?  
Harry: No, the one talking to Quirrell.  
Percy: Oh, Professor Snape, the Potions teacher. Yeah, he actually wants to be the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, which is odd, because every year we seem to get a new one.  
Harry: Why? What happens?  
Percy: Well, the last three were Fred and George. Not too sure about the previous thirty or so.  
Harry: And no-one thinks this is…AHH! *grabs scar*  
Percy: What? What is it?  
Harry: Nothing. I’ll just keep it bottled inside like a good protagonist.

Dumbledore: Oh, I just remembered a few things. Keep the fuck out of the forest, and keep the fuck out of the third floor corridor on the right hand side. Unless you want to die, we won’t stop you. Alright, goodnight.  
*Percy begins leading first years up the stairs when some small rocks start flying at them*  
Percy: God damn it Peeves, stop that.  
George: Hey, that wasn’t Peeves.  
Peeves: Yeah, I’ve got sticks.  
Harry: Oh good, another ghost.  
Peeves: What did you call me?  
Harry: Uhh…ghost?  
Peeves: I am a poltergeist you uncultured little shit *throws every bundle of sticks at Harry. Harry uses Neville as a meat shield*

*later, at the entrance to Gryffindor tower*  
Fat Lady: Password?  
Percy: Caput Draconis.  
Fat Lady: Are you sure?  
Percy: Yes.  
Fat Lady: Positive?  
Percy: Move bitch, get out the way.  
Fat Lady: Tisk tisk, Over a decade too early with that reference *opens up*

*in the common room*  
Percy: Alright first years, off to bed. Boys on the right, girls on the left *after they’d left* I do hope that was the right way around.  
???: Awfully pink for a boys dorm.  
Percy: Damn it.

*later, when everyone was in the correct dormitory*  
Neville: Alright, goodnight everybody *turns out the light*  
*heavy breathing*  
Harry: Ron, what are you…  
Ron: Shh, just let it happen.  
Harry: Oh God, turn the light on. TURN THE LIGHT ON!


	8. The Elixirs Guru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first week of classes.

Student 1: There he is.  
Student 2: Oh my God he is so cute.  
Student 1: I’mma touch his butt.  
Harry: Oh God not another one.  
Ron: Hey, I’m the only one allowed to do that.  
Harry: No. No you are not. Please stop.  
Ron: Just ten more seconds.  
Harry: No.  
Ron: Five?  
Harry: NO!  
Ron: Too late, I got them while talking to you.  
Harry: Goddamnit. Anyway, where are we going?  
Ron: I think our next lesson is through here.  
Harry: Don’t we have Herbology in the greenhouses?  
Ron: No, no, I’m pretty sure it’s through this door with the sign that says “Danger: vicious three-headed dog beyond this point.”  
Harry: So, in other words, you think our next lesson is through the gates of hell?  
Ron: Yes *tries to open the door*  
Filch: What are you little shit stains doing?  
Harry: It was all him.  
Filch: Don’t lie to me. Mrs. Norris saw you with her own eyes.  
Harry: You’re not even a freaking wizard. How the hell do you know what the cat sees? That’s stupider than us eleven year old first years staying up until midnight every Wednesday to study stars.  
Filch: You talking shit about my pussy?  
Harry: Uh…no.  
Filch: Because let me tell you about my pussy…  
Harry: Oh God, are we really doing this?  
Filch: I love my pussy.  
Harry: Dear God we are.  
Filch: I love to stroke my pussy, it’s just so soft and fuzzy to the touch, and when I go to sleep at night…  
Harry: I am not hearing another word of this *leaves*

*later, in Herbology*  
Sprout: *stumbles in with red eyes* Al..alright kids, let’s get planting pot.  
Hermione: Don’t you mean potting plants?  
Sprout: I know what I said.  
Neville: I think I might like this class.  
Seamus: Hey Professor, what’s this stuff?  
Sprout: Powdered mandrake, a potent aphrodisiac…  
Seamus: Oh really *starts putting some down his pants*  
Sprout: …and an itching acid.  
Seamus: Oh…may I go to the Hospital Wing?

*later, in History of Magic. Professor Binns comes in through the wall*  
Harry: Oh good, a ghost teacher. This should be interesting.  
Binns: Hello first years, welcome to your first History of Magic lesson. Well, let’s start at the beginning. Back in around 1445 BC, the Old Testament was written…  
Harry: Ugh, dear God, make it stop.

*later, in Charms class. Flitwick, standing on a pile of books, is taking attendance*  
Flitwick: Sally-Anne Perks?  
Sally-Anne: Here.  
Flitwick: Harry Potter? Wait, as in…SQUEE! *falls off books*  
Harry: You are a grown man, kind of, and you have known for years that one day I’d be here. How is this a shock?  
Seamus: Hey Professor, what’s the first thing we’ll be learning?  
Flitwick: That would be Wingardium Leviosa, a charm that makes things rise.  
Seamus: Oh really? *pulls out wand, points it at crotch* Wingardium Leviosa *explosion* May I go to the Hospital Wing?

*later, in Transfiguration*  
McGonagall: Alright kids, do not even THINK of fucking around in this class. This is the most difficult form of magic, and one slight mistake can be a catastrophe.  
Filch: Speaking of cats…  
McGonagall: Get the fuck out of my classroom. And Mr. Finnigan, I’ve heard about you behaviour in your other classes. Please do not try to transfigure your dick into something else.  
Seamus: Too late.  
McGonagall: *sigh* Go to the Hospital Wing.

*later, in Defence against the Dark Arts*  
Quirrell: …and th…th…that’s how I de…de…defeated the va…va…vampire known as The Ma…Ma…Master.  
Dean: No, you recounted the entire first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
Quirrell: N…n…no I didn’t, that sh…sh…show doesn’t exist yet.  
Seamus: Speaking of Buffy, I was pretending this suit of armour with very sharp edges was a vampire, and I didn’t have a stake so I used my…  
Quirrell: G…g…go to the Ho…Ho…Hospital Wing.

*that Friday*  
Harry: Okay, Potions class with that creepy Snape guy in the dark dungeons. Seriously, I don’t even need to make a paedophile joke. Rowling’s doing that for me.  
*Owl post comes, with Hedwig carrying a note*  
Note: Dear ‘arry, since you ‘ave this afternoon off, why not come down for a cup o’ tea? Signed, ‘agrid. P. S. Don’t ask how I know’d you ‘ave no classes.  
Harry: Speaking of creepy…  
*on the other side of the table*  
Dean: Seriously man, you done something to yo’ dick in every class so far, even History of Magic. How do ya even do that?  
Seamus: If you’re committed enough, anything is possible.  
Dean: *sigh* God damn white people.

*later, in Potions*  
Snape: Alright students, I suppose you all think that for this class you just have to boil a few earwigs and stir a pot, don’t you?  
Hermione: No sir, I…  
Snape: Hush your mouth you nattering cesspit. Five points from Gryffindor. When I say this is an exact science, I mean an exact science.  
Hermione: Finally, I teacher who actually calls it science.  
Snape: That’s another five points off. Now, who have we got here *turns to face Harry* Ah, Harry Potter. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?  
Harry: I am a first year student who grew up with a muggle aunt and uncle. How the hell should I know?  
Snape: Five points off Gryffindor. Now, start making a boil cure.  
*while making the Potion*  
Neville: Professor, is this right?  
Snape: Well, considering you were meant to CRUSH the snake fangs instead of cutting them, I’d say no. Five points off Gryffindor.  
Neville: What’s the difference?  
Snape: The difference is this *adds snake fangs to the mix, then throws it on Neville. Neville shrieks in pain* That, dear child, is sulphuric acid. Now, because you insist on feeling pain, that’s another five points off.  
Seamus: Uh, Professor? I decided tried to make a swelling solution, thinking it would make things bigger, but I made it wrong, and then I poured it down my pants…  
Snape: I’m taking one point off for every word you just said.  
Harry: Is there a reason he hates Gryffindor so much?  
Ron: Honestly, I think it’s because they’re not Slytherin. Fred and George always get points taken off them.  
Harry: Somehow, I don’t think it’s because they’re in Gryffindor.

*later, at Hagrid’s hut. Harry knocks on the door*  
Hagrid: Jus’ a minute…FANG! Don’t eat that, it’s too big fer…oh, maybe not then *Hagrid opens the door* ‘ello ‘arry. Be careful where you stand, Fang just ate an entire watermelon.  
Harry: What’s so bad about that?  
Hagrid: In one bite. Very soon that thing’s gonna come out in one piece.  
Ron: YO! ya-yo, ya-yo…  
Hagrid: *smacks Ron* NO! We will have none of that. Now, who wants a rock cake?  
*Harry and Ron try to take a bite out of one of them*  
Harry: What did you make these out of?  
Hagrid: Rocks of course. Why else would they be called rock cakes?  
*Harry notices the Daily Prophet on the table*  
Harry: Hey, someone tried to rob Gringott’s.  
Hagrid: Tried is right. Silly buggers tried to rob an empty vault.  
Harry: An empty vault, you say? Like what Vault 713 was once you took out the Philo…*Hagrid glares at him*…once you took out that package?  
Hagrid: Yeah, like I’d ever unwittingly tell you that.  
Harry: Oh, you will.  
Hagrid: What was that?  
Harry: Nothing. Let’s go Ron.


	9. The 12 am Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first years have their first flying lesson, Harry ends up on the Quidditch team, and Malfoy challenges Harry to a duel.

Harry: So Ron, when do we learn how to fly?  
Ron: You mean when do you learn how to fly? I do it all the time at home. But don’t worry, I can help you. I’ll be right behind you to make sure nothing goes wrong.  
Harry: And just like that I’m sorry I asked.  
Draco: Hey losers, we’re got flying lessons in an hour.  
Harry: Why are you telling us? Wouldn’t you want us to be in trouble for being late?  
Draco: How dare you accuse me of wanting you to get into trouble. I’ll tell my father about this.  
Harry: Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I wasn’t supposed to despise a guy who looks like Joffrey.  
Ron: Harry, he won’t exist for another five years.  
Draco: Anyway, the only reason I’m telling you is because I want you to see me flying majestically while you struggle to get off the ground. Isn’t that right Goyle?  
Goyle: Duh.  
Neville: Hey guys, my grandmother just sent me a Remembrall, and it’s telling me I forgot something, but I don’t know what it is. Do you know?  
Harry: Neville, where are your pants?  
Neville: *looks down* I remember what I forgot.

*later, just before flying lesson*  
Harry: So Hermione, how do you intend to explain flying broomsticks?  
Hermione: I suspect that after the popularity of Back to the Future II and III in the last couple of years that skateboard companies have been funnelling millions into being the first to have a hoverboard, so the cleaning industry decided to take them on by getting a flying broomstick.  
Ron: Somehow, I thought hearing you try and deny magic would get old after two weeks of you being top of the class, but your denial is still so entertaining.

Hooch: Alright kids, pick a broom, any broom, then hold your right hand above it and say ‘Up’.  
Neville: What if you’re left-handed?  
Hooch: Are you left-handed?  
Neville: Yes.  
Hooch: Then put your right hand over it and say ‘Up’. Miss Patil, why are you crying?  
Parvati: You’re making me remember Carl and Ellie.  
Hooch: For God sake child, that movie is almost two decades away.  
Seamus: *stands with his legs either side of the broomstick* UP! *broomstick hits him between the legs*  
Hooch: Go to the Hospital Wing Mr. Finnigan. Do you know where it is?  
Seamus: Yeah, I’ve been there once or twice *leaves*  
Hooch: Ah, Mr. Thomas. You seem to have had no problem getting your broomstick to come up.  
Dean: Well of course. I seem to have a skill with getting into vehicles.  
Hooch: Mr. Malfoy, you’re doing it wrong.  
Draco: What do you mean I’m doing it wrong?  
Hooch: The bristles are meant to be behind you.  
Draco: How dare you tell me I’m doing something wrong. My father will hear about this.  
Hooch: Alright, if you think that’s right, why don’t you fly for us?  
Draco: Okay, fine. *mounts broomstick, immediately flies backwards into the ground* My father will hear about this.  
Hooch: Of course he will.  
Harry: UP! *broomstick immediately jumps into Harry’s hand* This is because I’m the main character, isn’t it? That’s characterist.  
Dean: At least you’re not a racist stereotype like me.  
Hooch: Alright, now that everyone has gotten their brooms off the ground…  
Neville: I haven’t.  
Hooch: …firmly grasp the shaft *snickers from the students* and kick off the ground hard.  
Neville: Come on, up. UP! UP, DAMMIT! *broom shoots straight into Neville’s hand and keeps going, with Neville still holding on*  
Ron: So, do you think he’ll come back before or after he hits the stratosphere?  
*Neville comes hurtling back to Earth, creating a Neville shaped-hole when he lands*  
Harry: After. I don’t think you can make a hole like that unless you fell from at least that far.  
Hooch: Alright, I better take this boy to the Hospital Wing. Nobody try and do any flying while I’m gone, since I want to film it and put it on YouTube when it’s made *leaves with Neville*

Draco: Hey, look what fatass dropped *picks up Remembrall*  
Harry: Alright, I’ll give it back to him.  
Draco: Are you implying that I won’t?  
Harry: I don’t have to imply it. We all know that you won’t.  
Draco: I’ll tell my father about this.  
Harry: About what? You being less than perfect?  
Draco: Shut up. Just shut up *Draco gets on his broom backwards, and starts flying it in reverse*  
Harry: *sigh* I’ll go get it.  
Hermione: Harry, you realise that since Malfoy is the only one flying, he’s the only one who will get in trouble, and if something happens to Neville’s Remembrall, he’ll be forced to pay for a new one anyway?  
Ron: Hermione, he left before you even started talking.  
Hermione: Son of a bitch.

*in the air*  
Harry: How exactly are you managing to fly backwards and cry at the same time?  
Draco: Okay, just for that, I’m going to smash fatass’s balls.  
Harry: He only has one Remembrall.  
Draco: I’ll smash this too *throws it as hard as he can*  
Harry: Goddamn main character obligations *goes after Remembrall, catches it right before it hits the ground*  
Ron: WOO! Good work Harry.  
McGonagall: Yes, very good work indeed.  
Harry: Uh-oh…  
McGonagall: Come with me.  
Pansy: Nice knowing you, Potter.  
Harry: Bitch, you haven’t even appeared in this abridged series yet.

*going down the castle hallways*  
Harry: Come on Professor, it wasn’t even me. It was my evil twin…err…Parry Hotter.  
McGonagall: If you’re twins, why have you got different surnames?  
Harry: Damn it…where are we going, anyway?  
McGonagall: We need to get Wood.  
Harry: Huh, I didn’t know women could get wood.  
McGonagall: No, I mean Oliver Wood.  
Harry: My previous statement stands.  
McGonagall: For Christ sake, just wait here *enters classroom, comes back with a fifth year* Mr. Wood, this is Harry Potter, the new Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.  
Oliver: Really? Cool, but why?  
McGonagall: Because despite needing glasses, he was able to catch a clear glass ball falling to the ground at high speed.  
Oliver: Welcome aboard.  
Harry: Okay, back the fuck up. First of all, what the hell is Quidditch? Second, couldn’t you have explained any of this on the way here? Third, Oliver, not only is your name dirty, the actor who plays you has a dirty name.  
Oliver: Well, you see Harry, Quidditch is basically like wizard football, but on broomsticks.  
Harry: That doesn’t sound too difficult.  
Oliver: And all the players have to do something different.  
Harry: Still not too bad.  
Oliver: Including two players on the other team who will try and hit you with an iron ball.  
Harry: Okay, WHAT?!  
McGonagall: Alright, back to class. I believe Madam Hooch wants to film you for YouTube.

*later, at dinner*  
Ron: YOU GET TO BE ON THE QUIDDITCH TEAM?! That’s awesome.  
Harry: Shut up, we’re trying to keep it a secret.  
Fred: And yet, we already know.  
Harry: Of course you do.  
George: We’re Beaters.  
Fred: Also, that’s our position on the team.  
Harry: Whose genius idea was it to trust you with wooden clubs?  
Fred and George: McGonagall.  
Harry: I want to believe she wouldn’t hire the two most destructive students to represent her house, but given the role you’re playing that makes too much sense.  
Draco: Potter, how are you still here?  
Harry: Because of reasons that still haven’t been fully explained to me.  
Draco: Are you insulting my honour? I’ll tell my…  
Harry: …your father about this. Yeah, yeah, I know.  
Draco: Alright, if that’s what you think, I challenge you to a duel.  
Harry: What?  
Draco: Do you accept, or are you a coward?  
Ron: He accepts, and I’ll be right behind him.  
Harry: Please reword that.  
Ron: I’ll come second.  
Harry: That’s not exactly better.  
Draco: Alright then. Goyle will be my second. Goyle, show ‘em your skills.  
Goyle: *pulls out wand* Duh.*Goyle blasts himself through the wall of the Great Hall*  
Draco: I meant Crabbe *sees Crabbe pulling out his wand* Don’t demonstrate for them. Midnight in the third floor trophy room.  
Ron: Fine. See you then.  
Harry: Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to duel him?  
Ron: But this way you get to defeat the bad guy and win your true love’s heart.  
Harry: If you’re referring to yourself, stop.  
Hermione: Not to mention you could lose us a lot of house points if you’re caught after hours.  
Ron: Yeah, but so would Malfoy.  
Hermione: Did you ever think maybe he could tell Filch or Snape or someone that you were going to be out of bed and get you caught?  
Ron: Why would he do that? He’d get caught too.  
Hermione: God damn it, you’re an idiot.

*that night*  
Ron: Now Harry, we just have to sneak out of the Common Room, then avoid all the prefects, teachers, and Filch, and we’ll be able to duel Malfoy.  
Harry: Does me still not wanting to do this count for anything?  
Ron: No.  
Hermione: You guys don’t know how to whisper while sneaking, do you?  
Ron: Damn it Hermione, don’t you want to see Malfoy’s face bashed in?  
Hermione: I admit, he’s a dick, but is this really worth getting expelled over?  
Ron: *sarcastically* Oh, no. Students are out after curfew. They must be severely punished. *not sarcastically* Come on Harry *starts walking out of the portrait hole*  
Harry: *following* As if I have a choice. You bound my hands and feet. Seriously, Dean and Seamus felt they had to leave to ‘give us some privacy’.  
Hermione: *following* Guys, get back here before we get *sees the Fat Lady has left* locked…out. Well, shit.  
Ron: HA! You’re gonna in trouble.  
Hermione: So are you.  
Ron: Yeah, but I intended for that to happen.  
Hermione: Well, I guess we should just wait here until she gets back.  
Ron: Nah, we’ve got a duel to go to.  
Hermione: Ron, you get back…*trips over something*…what the? Neville?  
Neville: Hi guys.  
Harry: Why are you here?  
Neville: Well, as I was coming back in, Dean and Seamus warned me about whatever you and Ron were going to do, so I came to sleep out here until you were done.  
Harry: Speaking of which, can I be untied now? If I’m going to duel Malfoy, I should be able to move my arms at least.  
Ron: Hmm…okay *unties Harry* Now, off we go.  
Harry: Them too?  
Ron: What do I care? We need witnesses to our love.  
Harry: *heavy sigh* Just…whatever.

*in the trophy room*  
Harry: Okay, where is he then?  
Ron: HA! He chickened out. That means you win by default.  
Mrs. Norris: Meow.  
Ron: Oh shit.  
Hermione: You know what I was saying earlier…  
Ron: Shut. Up.  
Filch: Alright, I know you’re in there. Come on out.  
Harry: Shhh….if we’re quiet enough, he might leave *Neville knocks over a suit of armour* RUN LIKE A BITCH!  
Filch: GET BACK HERE AND LOOK AT MY PUSSY!

*run through the corridors*  
Peeves: Hi kids, who ya running from?  
Neville: Filch.  
Peeves: Oh, well in that case, ARGY! They’re over here.  
Harry: Damn it Neville, that’s the second time you’ve done that in as many minutes.  
*the group finds a locked door*  
Ron: And we’re screwed.  
Hermione: Alohomora.

*the door opens, and the kids run through it*  
Ron: So, how do you explain that one, Hermione?  
Hermione: Clearly it’s a voice activated…  
Neville: Um, guys?  
Harry: Neville, everything you’ve done tonight has been counterproductive. If the next thing you say ruins our safe and sound status, I will eat you. Every. Last Bite.  
Neville: You may not have to *points out Fluffy*  
All four: Well, shit *immediately run out the door and back towards Gryffindor Tower*  
Filch: HEY! Get back here so I can get you in trouble.

*in Gryffindor Tower*  
Fat Lady: Now what were you students doing out at this hour?  
Hermione: Pig snout.  
Fat Lady: Now, seriously, as an adult responsible for your safety, I think I’m entitled to…  
Harry: For Christ’s sake Lady, you’re a painting.  
Fat Lady: *sigh* Okay, fine. Jackass *opens*  
Harry: I guess they weren’t kidding about the vicious three-headed dog thing.  
Neville: I guess it must have broken in and claimed that hallway as its own.  
Hermione: Or it was guarding something.  
Ron: Hermione, do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?  
Hermione: Did you see where it was standing?  
Harry: Yes, Hermione. When confronted with a fucking three-headed demon dog, my first thought was “what’s it standing on?”  
Hermione: *sigh* It was standing on a trapdoor. It was guarding something.  
Ron: Oh Hermione, you and your stories. Now let’s all go to bed before you say some other crazy bullshit.


	10. October 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Quidditch practice, Harry and Oliver play with their balls. And there are trolls.

Goyle: Duh.  
Draco: Yes, I’m happy that Potter’s gone too. And as an added bonus, we got rid of one of those pesky Weasleys.  
Crabbe: Gah.  
Draco: Yes, victory is…WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY JUST WALKED IN?! *sees Harry and Ron walk into the Great Hall* Oh, I get it, they’re giving them one last meal before sending them back. I mean, it is a long way. I would have made them suffer with no food, but unfortunately this school has ethics…why are those owls carrying a broomstick shaped package towards Potter?

*at the Gryffindor table*  
Harry: So, what do you think is in that trapdoor?  
Ron: You’re not actually buying into what Hermione said, are you?  
Harry: Ron, the teachers at this school must be among the most powerful witches and wizards in the world, otherwise they wouldn’t be allowed to teach. If they didn’t want Cerberus in that hallway, surely they’d get rid of it in an instant. *broomstick shaped package lands in front of him, followed by a letter* *sarcastically* Oh, gee, I wonder what’s in this package.  
Ron: It’s a broomstick.  
Harry: That was sarcasm. Well, might as well see what’s in the letter. *opens letter* “DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o' clock for your first training session. Professor M. McGonagall”. Seems to me she could have sent this to me somewhere more private. Well, better get this hidden.  
Draco: WHY DO YOU GET A BROOMSTICK AND I DON’T?!  
Harry: Oh, go tell your father about it. That’s what you always do, isn’t it?  
Draco: How dare you? I’m gonna tell my…FUCK!

*heading up to the tower*  
Hermione: I suppose you’re happy you got rewarded for breaking the rules.  
Harry: Well, I pissed off Malfoy big time in the process, so I’m fucking elated.  
Ron: Yeah, fuck the rules.  
Hermione: That kind of attitude is going to get us all in trouble sooner or later.  
Ron: Not bloody likely.  
Hermione: ERGH! You stupid…oh, whatever *storms away*

*later, at Quidditch practice*  
Oliver: Well, Potter? Did you get your broom out without anyone seeing?  
Harry: No problem, though it was a bit uncomfortable hiding it down my shirt the whole way.  
Oliver: How did you…never mind. Let’s just go over the basics *opens a chest* Okay, check out my balls.  
Harry: Please tell me you mean the ones in the chest.  
Oliver: Those too. Now, this one *picks up a red ball* is called the Quaffle. The three chasers try to get in those giant hoops over there.  
Harry: Hey, you said this was like football. This is sounding more like basketball.  
Oliver: That’s a stupid name for a sport. Who’d make a ball out of a basket? Anyway, I’m a Keeper…  
Harry: I’m sure you are.  
Oliver: No…well, I mean I am, but that’s also my position. I just have to stop the Quaffle going through those hoops.  
Harry: Okay, how about those?  
Oliver: Remember how I said there were iron balls that would be hit at you?  
Harry: Yeah?  
Oliver: Hold this *hands Harry a bat, then unties a Bludger. Bludger flies into the air, then comes straight at Harry* Hey batta batta batta SWING batta batta *Harry hits Bludger straight at Wood* Oh shit *ducks out of the way*  
Harry: I fully understand why Fred and George are the Beaters.  
Oliver: Now, the only ball you have to worry about is the Golden Snitch. Catching it gets the team a hundred and fifty points, generally winning the game. It is extremely small, extremely fast, and extremely hard to see.  
Harry: Sorry, I missed that. I was cleaning my glasses.  
Oliver: Now, since we’ll probably lose the Snitch if we let it out, I’m just going to throw golf balls at you for the next half an hour until you can catch them.  
Harry: Wait, what…ow, ow. OW! Hey, did you ever catch that Bludger?  
Oliver: Oh shit *gets hit in the back of the head by the Bludger*

*Charms class, Halloween*  
Flitwick: Alright students, in your pairs, let’s see if you can manage to use the Wingardium Leviosa spell on these feathers. Mr. Potter, where is your partner?  
Harry: Seamus…  
Flitwick: Say no more.  
Ron: Wingardium Leviosa *nothing happens* Come on, do something.  
Hermione: You’re doing it wrong.  
Ron: Oh really, what am I doing then? Saying it wrong?  
Hermione: You haven’t even got your wand out. Here, like this *draws her own wand* Wingardium Leviosa *the feather rises quickly*  
Ron: I suppose you have a scientific answer for this.  
Hermione: I theorise that…  
Ron: GODAMMIT, YOU STUPID BITCH! Magic is real. GET OVER IT, and stop pretending you’re better than everyone.  
Hermione: Well, the fact that I’m the only one to get complete the assignment…  
Ron: NOBODY LIKES OR CARES ABOUT YOU!  
*stunned silence, followed by Hermione leaving the room*  
Harry: I think she heard you.  
*later, at the Halloween feast*

Lavender: Oh my God, like, did you hear about Hermione?  
Pavati: Like, duh, I was there lulz.  
Lavender: OMG, that’s right ROFL! Like, she’s off crying in the bathroom now.  
Pavati: lol, dat’s sad.  
Harry: God, I hope those two don’t breed.  
Ron: I don’t know, that Lavender chick is kinda cute.  
Harry: Don’t you dare.

*at the teacher’s table*  
Quirrell: Oh, by the way, did I mention there’s a troll in the dungeon?  
McGonagall: WHAT?!  
Quirrell: Sorry, it just slipped my mind.  
McGonagall: That’s a pretty big thing to slip your mind. Professor, what do we do? *sees Dumbledore sleeping* Goddamnit. ALL STUDENTS, RETURN TO YOUR DORMS!  
Percy: Alright, a chance to show my leadership skills by making sure every first year gets back to the dormitory. All of you, follow me.  
Harry: Wait, what about Hermione?  
Ron: What about her?  
Harry: Umm, there’s a troll somewhere in the castle, and she has no idea.  
Ron: Yeah, and? *Harry stares at him* *sigh* Okay, fine, we’ll go find her.

*later, sneaking down the hallways*  
Ron: Alright, the girl’s bathroom is just…  
Harry: How do we know this is the right one?  
Ron: What do you mean?  
Harry: This castle is fricken massive. Are you telling me that there’s only one girl’s bathroom in the entire castle?  
Ron: Harry, the simple answer to that is…someone’s coming.  
Harry: Ron, that’s hardly an expla…oh, someone’s coming *the two of them hide behind a statue, and peer out to see Snape*  
Ron: What’s he doing here? The troll’s in the dungeon.  
Harry: Maybe the teachers found that it got out, and he’s looking around the other parts of the castle?  
Snape: Got to get to that dog, got to get…  
Harry: Or he’s up to some dodgy shit.  
Ron: Speaking of shit…  
Harry: Yeah, I know, you got so scared that you…  
Ron: What? No. Well, I mean I did, but also that other smell.  
Harry: What other…oh shit.  
Ron: You too then?  
Harry: …no comment.  
*troll comes around corner, opens door, goes inside*  
Ron: Quick, lock it in *runs over, locks the door*  
Harry: Isn’t that the girl’s bathroom?  
Ron: Yeah, so?  
Hermione: *inside* Hey, no boys allowed. This is the girl’s…SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK!!!  
Harry: Because that.  
Ron: Oh, right *does nothing*  
Harry: Ron…  
Ron: Okay, fine *enter girl’s bathroom*

Harry: What do we do?  
Ron: Umm…*throws debris at it. Troll doesn’t notice* Well, I’m all out of ideas.  
Harry: This is probably a bad idea, but since there’s six more books and necromancy doesn’t exist, there will be no consequences to this *climbs on troll’s back and shoves wand up its nose*  
Troll: Hey, fuck you, man. I just needed to pee, and accidentally came into the wrong bathroom. This seems like a complete overreaction.  
Harry: Ron, do something.  
Ron: Like?  
Harry: You know how you’re useless? Do the exact opposite of that.  
Ron: Screw you…but first *pulls out wand* Wingardium Leviosa *troll’s club rises into the air, then drops down and knocks it out*  
Harry: Wow, that actually worked *pulls wand out of troll’s nose* Eww, seriously? Trolls are meant to be made of stone, aren’t they?  
McGonagall: Not in this series they’re not.  
Harry: And now you’re here.  
McGonagall: Now, I have several questions…  
Hermione: I can explain. This pervert with Elephantiasis, possibly Professor McFondles, came into the bathroom while I was in here, I screamed, Harry and Ron came to help.  
McGonagall: Wait, you think this is just a diseased man?  
Hermione: It isn’t?  
McGonagall: Five points from Gryffindor for not knowing what a troll is.  
Hermione: I don’t see what 4chan has to do with this.  
McGonagall: And as for you two, I will award five points to each of you for somehow being alive.  
Harry: So we’re only gaining five points?  
McGonagall: Yep.  
Harry: And you’re not punishing us for breaking the rules…again.  
McGonagall: Yep.  
Harry: The hell is wrong with this school?

*later, in the Common Room*  
Ron: Kinda cool that we can break the rules like that and get away with it.  
Hermione: Yeah, it was kinda hot watching you nail that troll.  
Ron: What?  
Hermione: Nothing.  
Shippers: We heard that.


	11. Wizard Football

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor plays Slytherin in the first Quidditch match of the season. Will something other than Gryffindor winning happen? Of course not. That would be stupid.
> 
> Also, Harry nearly dies or something.

Harry: Ah, November. And…it’s fricken freezing. What the hell? Normally it starts getting warmer doesn’t it?  
Hermione: Harry, we’re in England. Kieran is in Australia. Not that he’s old enough to know that at this time.  
Harry: Can’t we do something to warm up?  
Hermione: Hold on *pulls out a jar, her wand, and a match* Now, all I have to do is strike this match against my wand so that the fire goes into the jar, rather than believe that Incendio spell will *fire spurts from her wand into the jar* Huh, I guess spontaneous combustion is real. By the way Harry, since your first Quidditch match is coming up soon, I found this in the library for you.  
Harry: “Quidditch through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp”. Pfft, reading’s for nerds.  
Hermione: I thought it might give you an edge on the competition.  
Harry: Hermione, I can literally see every member of the Slytherin Quidditch Team’s names in here. Though from what Wood’s told me about Marcus Flint, I’m impressed he can read at all.  
Ron: Guys, Snape.  
Harry: Snape?  
Hermione: SNAAAAAAAAPE! *hides flame jar*  
Snape: Okay, what are you kids doing that made you reference a game that isn’t even out yet?  
Hermione: Err…  
Snape: Is that a library book?  
Ron: Err…  
Snape: You can’t take them out of the school. I’m going to confiscate that.  
Harry: And get us in trouble for not returning it?  
Snape: Yes.  
Harry: Douche.

*later in the Common Room*  
Hermione: Harry, you gotta get that book back.  
Harry: Why should I?  
Hermione: I’ll show you my boobs.  
Harry: You’re twelve.  
Hermione: I’ll show you my boobs when I get hot.  
Harry: I’m on my way.

*outside the staffroom*  
Harry: *knocking* HELLO?! Anyone? Hmm, maybe no-one’s in there. So, if I steal the book that Snape knows Hermione borrowed from the library, he couldn’t possibly know it was one of us. Perfect logic *opens door, sees Snape showing his managed leg to Filch* Okay, this doesn’t prove he was up to anything dodgy on Halloween.  
Snape: That bloody dog is just so difficult to control.  
Harry: Still doesn’t prove anything. He might mean a regular dog.  
Snape: How are you meant to watch all three heads at once?  
Harry: Still doesn’t prove anything. He might mean another three-headed…yeah, not even I believe that.  
Snape: POTTER, what the hell are you doing here?  
Harry: Trying to guarantee that I’ll see some boobs later in life.

*back in the Common Room*  
Hermione: Well, did you get it?  
Harry: Well, no…  
Ron: HA! No boobs for you.  
Harry: But I found out that Snape is after whatever’s under that dog.  
Ron: Silly Harry, you can’t believe everything Hermione tells you.  
Harry: Even the boobs thing?  
Hermione: Yes.  
Harry: Damn it.

*the next day, at breakfast*  
Hermione: Come on Harry, you need to eat something.  
Harry: No. I’m still upset about not getting to see boobs.  
Hermione: I mean because you have a Quidditch game later.  
Harry: How much energy will I really be using though? I’m on a broomstick.  
Ron: You could be out there for hours.  
Seamus: Besides, Seekers have a tendency to take balls to the face.  
Harry: I really hope you mean the Bludgers…actually, I’m not sure if that would be better.

*at the Quidditch pitch*  
Neville: Did you bring the banner Dean?  
Dean: Of course *unfurls banner*  
Hermione: “Potter for President”. Even though he meets none of the requirements.

*in the changing rooms*  
Oliver: Alright, everyone here?  
Angelina: Yes, we’re all here.  
Fred: In the Gryffindor Changing Room.  
George: Emphasis on the lack of pluralisation, since it’s never mentioned that there’s more than one.  
Harry: This makes up for missing out on Hermione’s.  
Oliver: Alright, Chasers, I want you get grab those balls as hard as possible, and get them in Slytherin’s holes. Meanwhile, I’ll be making sure we don’t get our own holes penetrated. Fred and George, you be ready to beat them off at a moment’s notice. If all goes well, Harry will shower us in gold when he grabs that tiny ball of his.  
Harry: Everything’s a euphemism with you, isn’t it?

*going out onto the field*  
Hooch: Now, I want a nice, clean game kids.  
Harry: I think Wood ruined that with his speech.  
Marcus: Duhhh…what’s a game?  
Harry: Is he part troll?  
Marcus: Hey, my mummy was a bootiful lady. I eat you and kill you.  
Harry: Yep.  
Hooch: And…BEGIN!  
Lee: AND THEY’RE OFF! Angelina Johnson starts with the Quaffle, the most bangable girl on the team this year…  
McGonagall: Jordan…  
Lee: What? She is.  
McGonagall: Why do we let you commentate?

*in the stands*  
Hagrid: Make way, coming through.  
Ron: Hey Hagrid, what kept you?  
Hagrid: The guys at the gates wouldn’t let me in.  
Hermione: Why not?  
Hagrid: Something about the stands being unable to support my weight. But I just told them that’s bull *falls through the stand* SHIIIIIIIIIIT!

*later*  
Harry: Okay, good, we scored. Just gotta stay up here out of the way until I see the Snitch. Should be no problem to see a speeding golden ball from up here on a sunny day, especially for a guy with glasses.  
Lee: Hey, is that the Snitch near Katie Bell?  
Harry: Or I can wait for him to say it *flies after Snitch*  
Terence: There’s the Snitch. Now it’s time to upstage the main character. Cover me Marcus.  
Marcus: Okay *slams straight into Harry’s broom*  
Terence: No, I meant to block him without actually touching him.  
Marcus: Oopsy daisy.  
Terence: Why are you our captain?

Harry: Okay, Snitch has disappeared again. Well, better get out of the *broom suddenly jerks to the left* Okay, that was odd. Probably a one off occurrence, no cause for *broom suddenly jerks to the right* That’s not good *broom suddenly jerks all over the place*  
Hermione: OH NO!  
Hagrid: What’s going on up there?  
Ron: Harry’s broom’s being jinxed. And Marcus Flint is throwing the Quaffle through the goals, catching it, and throwing it through again. Nope, wait, he stopped. Guess he thinks they’re far enough in front now.  
Hagrid: What’s the score?  
Ron: Sixty to twenty, Slytherin lead.  
Hagrid: That’s not enough to secure a win.  
Ron: But he doesn’t know that.  
Hermione: Guys, I think Snape is praying.  
Ron: Praying?  
Hermione: Yeah, I reckon he’s praying that Harry falls.  
Ron: That asshole.  
Hermione: Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea *rushes off*

*out on the field*  
Fred: Just drop Harry. We’ll catch you.  
Harry: Are you mad?  
George: Yes, but we’re also concerned for your safety.  
Harry: I’m amazed you know the meaning of the word.

*meanwhile, in the stands*  
Hermione: Just gotta quietly get through…oops, accidentally knocked Quirrell, but he didn’t seem to notice. Okay, here we are *pulls out match and wand* Now, just gotta strike this match, rather than use that Incendio spell *Snape’s robes catch fire* Why does that keep happening? *runs away*

*out on the field*  
Harry: Hey, my broom stopped trying to get rid of me.  
George: That’s exactly what it wants you to think.  
Harry: Okay, I’m just gonna see if I can get down to the ground on it.  
Fred: I wouldn’t recommend… *Harry falls past him* He fell off trying to get back on, didn’t he?  
George: Yep.  
Harry: AHHHHH *swallows something and starts coughing. Hits ground and coughs up the Snitch* Well that was convenient.  
Marcus: Too bad I scored too many goals for it to matter.  
Harry: Actually, we just won by a hundred and ten points.  
Marcus: No you…wait, is seventeenty a bigger or smaller number than sixty?  
Harry: Bigger.  
Marcus: DAMN IT!

*later, at Hagrid’s hut*  
Hermione: I’m telling you, Snape was praying that Harry would fall off his broom.  
Hagrid: Nonsense, ‘e’s a teacher. Why would he pray for the death of a student? Ninety percent of the animals in and around the school could do that for ‘im.  
Harry: It’s because I found out he tried to get past that dog.  
Hagrid: *eye twitch* What dog?  
Harry: That three headed dog on the third floor.  
Hagrid: *eye twitch* What three ‘eaded dog on the third floor?  
Ron: The one with the collars that read ‘Spot’, ‘Rex’, and ‘Rover’.  
Hagrid: That’s not right, ‘is name’s Fluffy…ah crap.  
Harry: Told ya we’d get it out of you.  
Hagrid: Well, you won’t find out what ‘e’s guarding, that’s between Dumbledore, and Nicolas Flamel…son of a bitch.  
Harry: I know. You just got us banned on Fanfiction dot net because we can’t use real people.


	12. The Looking Glass of Gnignol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting my Christmas special out of the way before the rush.

Ron: It’s been snowing a lot lately. Look, the lake’s frozen over.  
Harry: Didn’t Hagrid say they have a giant squid in there?  
Hermione: The staff probably moved it to somewhere it wouldn’t freeze.  
Harry: How the hell would they move a squid that size?  
Hermione: We’re at an advanced science school. They’d have ways.  
*Quirrell walks past, snowballs bouncing off the back of his head*  
Harry: What’s that all about?  
Ron: Fred and George have been charming snowballs to bounce off Quirrell’s head.  
Harry: And I’m not even surprised.  
???: You fool, you should destroy those red-headed *gets hit* OOF! Those red-headed brats.  
Quirrell: I-in g-g-good time, my l-l-l-lord.  
Hermione: Who are you talking to Professor?  
Quirrell: Oh, ah, n-n-n-no-one, sweet child.  
???: Yes, run along to class now.  
Harry: That disembodied voice is right. We’ve got Potions in ten minutes.

*in Potions class*  
Hermione: Jeez, hasn’t this castle got indoor heating?  
Snape: I like my dungeons in the winter. They become the only thing as cold as my heart.  
Draco: Yeah, cold is good. But I also enjoy the warmth of a parent’s hug after you’ve been away for a while. Don’t you like that feeling Potter?  
Harry: You’re still jealous because I beat your house’s team.  
Draco: Fuck you. Next year we’ll stomp you. I’ll make sure of it.  
Harry: Yeah right.

*coming out of the dungeons, they’re blocked by a giant for tree*  
Hagrid: ‘ey kids, need me to move this?  
Harry: Nah, nah, it’s fine. We were just planning on dying of hypothermia.  
Hagrid: Oh, alright then *leaves tree where it is*  
Harry: I was being sarcastic.  
Hagrid: Okay, fine *moves tree*  
Hermione: Come on, we have to go to the library.  
Hagrid: Ye’re still studyin’? Don’t the ‘olidays start tomorrow?  
Harry: Yeah, but we’re trying to find legal loopholes so that we can keep posting this fanfic on Fanfiction dot net since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel was a part of this story. It would help if we knew anything about what he did.  
Hagrid: Well, ye ain’t getting anythin’ else from me.  
Ron: We probably will.

*in the library*  
Hermione: This library has an annoying lack of law books.  
Ron: What did you expect? It’s a mag…err, “science” school.  
Harry: Maybe there’s something in the restricted section?  
Hermione: Harry, you know we can’t get in there without a note from a teacher.  
Harry: Maybe we could…  
Madam Pince: Shhh.  
Harry: I was just…  
Madam Pince: SHHH!  
Harry: But I…  
Madam Pince: SHHHHHH! *the power of her shhhing throws the three of them out of the library*

*Christmas Day*  
Ron: Happy Christmas Harry!  
Harry: It’s Merry Christmas you jackass.  
Ron: Whatever, just open my present.  
Harry: Okay, hand it over.  
Ron: Ah, could you just open it while I hold it?  
Harry: I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? *takes off the top, looks inside* Yep.  
Ron: It’s my dick in a box.  
Harry: It’s in a box. Alright, what else did I get? *picks up Hagrid’s present*  
Ron: I like its shape.  
Harry: It’s just a flute Ron.  
Ron: So?  
Harry: Moving on *finds Vernon and Petunia’s present* Wow, fifty pence. That’s a whole pound more than normal. I think they’re starting to like me. Okay, let’s see, this one’s from…your mum?  
Ron: Worst. Your mama joke. Ever.  
Harry: No, she actually sent me a present *opens it* A hand-knitted sweater. And…I really hope this is fudge. Okay, onto Hermione’s present *opens it up, and dozens of Chocolate Frogs start hopping around the room* You can have them, Ron.  
Ron: Eww, gross. They’ve been on the floor.  
Harry: And the last one *opens it* A cloak? Sweet. *starts putting it on* This’ll keep me…where’d my everything go?  
Ron: That’s an invisibility cloak.  
Harry: Finally, a way to avoid you.  
Ron: You think that’ll stop me? Anyway, who’s it from?  
Harry: Let’s see *looks at the note with it* “Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.” Well, sneaking into the girl’s rooms it is then.

*later, at the Christmas feast*  
Fred: Hey Harry, Christmas cracker?  
Harry: Yeah, sure *pulls Christmas cracker with Fred. It explodes, dropping a wizard chess set and several live mice* Dear God, how long have they had these?  
George: Probably only the last week or so at most.  
Harry: And PETA are okay with this?  
Fred: Who’s PETA?  
Harry: That’s what I thought.

*later, in the Common Room*  
Harry: Knight to B6.  
Knight: Are you fucking kidding me kid? Can you see that pawn?  
Harry: If I want advice, I’ll ask for it.  
Knight: *sigh* Fine *moves to B6. Is immediately killed by pawn*  
Ron: I win again.  
George: Congratulations. Here’s your prize *hands Ron something*  
Ron: This is Percy’s prefect badge.  
Percy: HEY! Give that back.  
Fred: Oops, gotta go *grabs badge and runs away, Percy in hot pursuit*

*that night*  
Harry: Now, how are we gonna get this fanfic to be allowed on Fanfiction dot net? We’ll need a legal book, but we need to get into the Restricted Section. If only I had something that would allow me to sneak in there completely undetected…wait a minute *pulls out invisibility cloak* This’ll work nicely.

*later, in the library*  
Harry: No-one will ever suspect that this floating lantern is actually being carried by a student. There’s enough other weird shit going on they’ll think this is normal. Ah, here it is *enters Restricted Section* Well, this book looks the most boring. This is probably the right one *pulls out large book and opens it. Book starts screaming* Alright, alright, shut the fuck up.  
Filch: Is someone there?  
Harry: Son of a bitch. Okay, maybe he’ll go away if I stay quiet *knocks over lantern* DAMN IT! I did a Neville. *puts on Cloak and runs past Filch*  
Filch: Come out, come out, wherever you are.

*later, in a Hallway*  
Harry: I think I lost him.  
Filch: That’s right Severus, I’m sure they went this way.  
Snape: Well then, we better find them.  
Harry: Damn it *slips into room behind him* Hey, an old mirror. What’s this inscription? “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.” Okay, seriously Rowling, if you’re going to spell something backwards, have the spaces in the right spots *looks in the mirror* Why are there more people in this room than just me? For that matter, why can I see me? I’m still wearing the cloak. Wait a minute *looks harder* Mum? Dad?

*the next morning*  
Harry: Seriously Ron, I saw my dead parents.  
Ron: I wish I could see my dead parents.  
Harry: Your parents aren’t even dead.  
Ron: Oh yeah. You should totally show it to me tonight.  
Harry: No. It’s my mirror.  
Ron: Actually, it’s the school’s.  
Harry: Well then they shouldn’t have left it in a disused classroom.

*that night*  
Harry: Hi mum, hi dad.  
Ron: Who are you talking to?  
Harry: Ron, how did you get here?  
Ron: I hid under the invisibility cloak.  
Harry: But…I was hiding under the invisibility cloak.  
Ron: Indeed you were.  
Harry: Then how did…never mind.  
Ron: So who were you talking to? Your parents aren’t in that mirror.  
Harry: Yes they are, they’re right there.  
Ron: No, that’s just me holding a trophy my mum gave me declaring me her best child.  
Harry: No, it’s my parents.  
Ron: No it isn’t.  
Harry: Fine, what does this so-called trophy look like?  
Ron: A naked you.  
Harry: And we’re done here *pushes Ron out of the room*  
Dumbledore: Finally, I thought he’d never leave.  
Harry: The fuck are you doing here, and how much trouble am I in?  
Dumbledore: I don’t remember how I got here, and none.  
Harry: Really? Is it even physically possible for me to get in trouble at this school?  
Dumbledore: I’m at school? I hope Professor Snape doesn’t punish me for not doing my Potions homework.  
Harry: You’re the Headmaster, and probably taught Snape.  
Dumbledore: Oh, that’s right. Thank you Henry.  
Harry: It’s Harry.  
Dumbledore: Thank you Geoff.  
Harry: Soo…what’s the deal with this mirror?  
Dumbledore: It tells you what you want, what you really really want.  
Harry: So, it just sits here then?  
Dumbledore: Yes, until we move it tomorrow.  
Harry: Okay, where to?  
Dumbledore: I can’t tell you that.  
Harry: Why not?  
Dumbledore: Because I forgot where.  
Harry: You forgot where it’s getting moved to?  
Dumbledore: No, I forgot where I am.  
Harry: Right…I’m going back to bed now.  
Dumbledore: it’s night?


	13. The Titular Philosopher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter likes Fullmetal Alchemist. Also, they find out who Flamel is.

Ron: Hey Harry, were we supposed to be doing something over the holidays?  
Harry: I’m sure it was nothing.  
Hermione: Hey guys, I’m back. Did you find out anything about Nicolas Flamel?  
Harry: Oh, that’s right. Wait, you were gone?  
Hermione: You didn’t notice I was gone all Christmas holidays?  
Ron: There was a distinct lack of refusing the existence of magic for the last couple of weeks.  
Harry: Well, while you were apparently gone, I found a mirror that shows you what you want by sneaking around after hours and didn’t even get in trouble for it despite being caught by Dumbledore.  
Hermione: What? How?  
Harry: Because he’s a senile old moron.  
Hermione: That’s…depressingly accurate.

Oliver: Harry, come on. We’ve got Quidditch practice.  
Harry: Wood, this is the twelfth session this week. And it’s only Monday. Seriously, our next opponent is Hufflepuff. What’s the problem?  
Oliver: Well for one, they have that Seeker…what’s his name? Cedory Diggric? Also, Snape’s umpiring.  
Harry: First of all, not until 1993. Second of all WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! He’s going to be flying around with that leg injury?  
Oliver: What leg injury?  
Harry: Well, you see… *Neville hops into the Common Room* Oh good, a distraction. We’ll continue this never.

Neville: Little help? Malfoy used the Leg-Locker Curse on me.  
Hermione: Hold on.  
Ron: We’re about to see her explain how the Leg-Locker Curse works *Hermione pulls Neville’s legs apart with her bare hands* or do that.  
Harry: You okay Neville?  
Neville: I should be.  
Harry: Here, have a Chocolate Frog.  
Neville: Is that one of the ones that has been hopping around Gryffindor Tower since Christmas?  
Harry: *eye twitch* No.  
Neville: Awesome *grabs it* Do you want the card?  
Harry: Why would I want that?  
Neville: Plot advancement.

Harry: How can a Chocolate Frog card possibly…hey, I found Nicolas Flamel.  
Hermione: What? How?  
Harry: Apparently Dumbledore and Flamel worked together in alchemy.  
Ron: No wonder I don’t remember seeing it. The only cards I’ve ever gotten are you. Well, actually I get other ones all the time. I just trade them away.  
Harry: So what now?  
Hermione: Hold on, I think I remember reading something *leaves, comes back with a giant book*  
Ron: You didn’t read that whole thing over the holidays did you?  
Hermione: Don’t be ridiculous Ron. I only finished three quarters of it. Now, where was it…ah, here it is. Nicolas Flamel is the creator of the Philosopher’s Stone.  
Ron: You actually read his name and didn’t think that maybe you’d found the guy?  
Harry: Oh God, that’s awful.  
Hermione: Why, what’s wrong?  
Harry: He’s using human souls to create anything out of nothing.  
Hermione: I think you might be mixing references. The Philosopher’s Stone can turn any metal into gold, and create the Elixir of Life.  
Harry: Oh God, he’s drinking human souls.  
Hermione: Lay off the FMA Harry. Now, it says here that Nicolas Flamel is six hundred and sixty five years old as of last year...  
Ron: Of course they wouldn’t let Rowling put his true age in a children’s book.  
Hermione: And it explains why we couldn’t find anything about him. We were looking for modern wizards, not fossils.  
Harry: So, this Philosopher’s Stone, probably the thing Fluffy’s guarding right?  
Hermione: Most likely.  
Harry: And Snape’s trying to get it?  
Ron: Yep.  
Harry: We’ll need to stop him. Can you imagine Snape with the power to rival Gods?  
Hermione: Seriously Harry, stop. That series doesn’t exist yet.

*the day of the Quidditch match*  
Harry: Okay guys, today I destroy Hufflepuff.  
Ron: Are you sure you want to? I mean, with Snape refereeing, and he did try to kill you last time…  
Harry: I’ll be fine. How hard can it be to cast a spell while flying a broom?  
Ron: Fred and George manage just fine. Sometimes while deflecting a Bludger.  
Harry: Well shit.

*in the changing rooms before the match*  
Oliver: Alright guys, do your best to clean a nice clean game so Snape has no reason to penalise us. And remember, the entire school is out there watching us. Every. Single. Person. Including Dumbledore. But no pressure.  
Angelina: Really?  
Alicia: Yep. Though I think he just got lost looking for the bathroom again.  
Harry: Great, way to mount the pressure. Why can’t drinking be legal?  
Oliver: Alright guys, let’s go *leads team onto the pitch*

*in the stands*  
Neville: Hey guys, I saved you some seats. Ron, why have you got your wand out?  
Ron: Well, we ARE watching Harry play…  
Neville: Put it away. That’s indecent exposure.  
Ron: Sorry *zips up*  
Draco: Hey guys, look. It’s fatass, ginger and…ugly. I’ll think of something better for you later.  
Hermione: Charming. If you don’t mind we’ll be ignoring you, so you might as well tell your father about that now so you don’t forget it.  
Draco: How dare you pre-empt my line. I’m gonna tell my father about this.  
Neville: Guys, the game started.  
Ron: And as expected, Snape has already given a free to Hufflepuff.  
Draco: Yeah, he wants to correct the mistake of last game.  
Ron: Malfoy, you say one more word, and I’ll…  
Draco: One more word.  
*moment of silence, then Ron attacks Draco. Crabbe, Goyle, and Neville stare in shock, then jump into the fray too*  
Hermione: *completely focused on the game* Ooh, did you see that Ron? Snape had no choice to give Katie that free *silence except for the fight behind her* That shocking, eh Ron? Don’t blame you. Hey, Harry’s diving awful steeply. He just nearly knocked Snape off his broom…wait, he’s pulling up…HE DID IT! HE CAUGHT THE SNITCH! Wow, that didn’t take long, did it Ron? *Ron has taken his seat again, beaten up* What the hell did I miss?

*out on the field*  
Snape: Potter, you nearly killed me. Ten points off Gryffindor.  
Harry: That’s okay, I’ve got a hundred and forty to spare.  
*Snape glares at him*  
Dumbledore: Good work Harry.  
Harry: Thanks Professor.  
Dumbledore: Though to be honest, I can’t remember why I am congratulating you.  
Harry: Of course you don’t.

*after the game*  
Harry: Well, I just solidified my awesomeness by being faster than anyone...let’s hope that reputation doesn’t stick. Anyway, I guess all I have to do now is *sees a hooded figure heading towards the Forbidden Forest* is that Snape? *gets on broom, flies quietly behind him, before crashing into a tree* Ahh, damn it. Well, at least trees don’t hit back. Now, where’s…there he is. Oh, and Quirrell.  
Quirrell: S-S-Severus, what do you w-w-want with me?  
Snape: The truth. Tell me, have you figured out how to get past that dog yet?  
Quirrell: W-W-Why would I know th-th-that?  
Snape: Don’t play dumb. I know you can’t help it, but try. You wouldn’t want me as an enemy, wouldn’t you Quirinus?  
Quirrell: H-h-how did you know my first name?  
Snape: Pottermore. Now, I would like to know what you’re doing about Potter, after…  
*owls comes up and screeches at Harry, causing him to fall off the branch. He manages to hold on with one hand*  
Snape: …curse failed. Well?  
Quirrell: I…  
Snape: Will do exactly as you say forever and ever. Why think you Quirinius.  
*they both leave. Harry is still hanging in the tree*  
Harry: Well, I appear to be in quite a predicament *owl starts pecking his fingers* Oh, screw YOUUUUUUUUUU! *thud*

*later, in the Common Room*  
Hermione: Harry, where have you been?  
Harry: Eavesdropping on Snape threatening Quirrell to help him get the stone.  
Ron: Pretty sure that’s more of a hindrance than help.  
Harry: Not unless Quirrell’s a snack for Fluffy.  
Ron: Well, the stone’s screwed.


	14. Norbert the Scandinavian Pointyspine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hagrid, a man you would trust with a kitten, gets a dragon.

Ron: Has the stone been taken yet?  
Harry: No.  
Ron: How ‘bout now?  
Hermione: No.  
Ron: Now?  
Harry and Hermione: NO!  
Ron: Jeez, Snape is really confident about getting through there then. He doesn’t even have to rush.  
Harry: Maybe Quirrell knows something about how the Stone’s guarded that he’s not telling him.  
Ron: Bullshit. Snape could get it out of him if he wanted to.  
Hermione: Guys, we’re meant to be studying. Exams are coming up.  
Harry: They’re over two months away Hermione. And I’m pretty sure thwarting a Dark Lord is reason enough to be behind on our studies.  
Hermione: Yes, but we need to keep it on the low that we know what Snape’s up to.  
Ron: Yeah, but…hey, is that Hagrid?  
Harry: No, it’s the other half-giant at the school.  
Ron: Oh, okay.  
Harry: YES IT’S HAGRID YOU IDIOT!

Hermione: Hi Hagrid. What brings you to the library?  
Hagrid: Oh, jus’ some research.  
Harry: I wasn’t even aware that you could read. So, what you reading?  
Hagrid: Err…nothing *shuffles away*  
Harry: That’s not good.  
Ron: He came from the dragon section.  
Harry: Very not good.  
Ron: And there’s a large gap in the section about dragon keeping.  
Harry: Very VERY not good.  
Ron: I know. Dragon keeping’s illegal in this country. That’s why my brother Charlie ran away to Romania.  
Harry: That’s…wait a minute, why does a school even have books about dragon keeping if it’s illegal?

*later that day, at Hagrid’s hut*  
Hagrid: ‘ello kids, what’s been ‘appening?  
Harry: Why the hell have you got a dragon egg?  
Hagrid: Err *notices he’s holding the egg, immediately throws it into a cauldron in the fireplace* What dragon egg?  
Ron: Hey, where’d it go? Well, guess he doesn’t have it. Batter move on to the other reason we’re here: What’s guarding the Philosopher’s Stone other than Fluffy?  
Hagrid: All the teachers have something guarding it.  
Hermione: Except for Snape.  
Hagrid: No, he’s got something too.  
Harry: Wait, so all the teachers have something to guard the Philosopher’s Stone?  
Hagrid: Yep. But we haven’t told anyone how to get past our individual traps, except for Dumbledore.  
Hermione: So right now we’re relying on you and a senile old man not telling Snape how to get past Fluffy?  
Hagrid: Yep.  
Ron: The Stone is fucked. Well, we’re done here.  
Harry: What about the dragon egg?  
Ron: Harry, there’s no dragon egg here.  
Harry: *walking over to the cauldron* Yes there is, it’s right *tries to grab it out* AHH! Son of a bi…

*a week later*  
Harry: I really hope Hagrid knows what he’s doing with that dragon egg.  
Ron: I told you Harry, he doesn’t have a dragon egg.  
*Hedwig flies in with a note. It reads “It’s hatching”*  
Harry: Then explain this note.  
Hermione: I would be fascinated to see a Komodo dragon hatch, but unfortunately we have Herbology.  
Ron: Oh, I can’t wait to see your explanation when this thing starts breathing fire.  
Draco: *walking past* What was that?  
Harry: Nothing.  
Draco: Bullshit. I know what I heard.

*later, at Hagrid’s*  
Hagrid: ‘ey kids, ye’re just in time. Look *reveals the egg as it hatches*  
Hermione: Hagrid, how do you intend to keep something like that secret?  
Hagrid: I’ll jus’ ‘ide it in me ‘ut.  
Harry: Really? You’re going to hide the fire-breathing reptile in your wooden hut?  
Hagrid: Yep.  
Ron: Hagrid, my brother Charlie has dragons over in Romania. We could very easily *dragon bites him* SON OF A BIT…  
Hagrid: Hey now, watch yer language in front in little Norbert.  
Harry: You already named it?  
Hagrid: Norbert’s a he, not an it. And furthermore…is that blond haired little shit looking through my window?  
Draco: My name is Draco…I mean, gotta go *runs off*  
Harry: Now do you want us to get rid of it?  
Hagrid: *sigh* Fine.  
Ron: I think I need to go to the Hospital Wing.  
Harry: First you’ve got to write to your brother.  
Ron: But he bit my writing hand.  
Harry: WRITE TO YOUR BROTHER!

*a week later, in the Hospital Wing*  
Harry: So, what’s the deal with your brother?  
Ron: He said to meet some friends of his at the top of the tallest Astronomy tower at midnight tonight with Norbert.  
Hermione: Sure thing. Where’s the letter?  
Ron: Well, you see, I was using it as a bookmark…  
Harry: Okay, so where’s the book?  
Ron: Well, Malfoy came in here to mock me, and he told Madam Pomfrey that he had to borrow a book from me, so that’s the book I gave him.  
Hermione: You actually gave him a book?  
Ron: He was threatening to tell Madam Pomfrey what actually happened.  
Harry: For fuck sake Ron, you have a dozen other books here. Well, too late to cancel now. We’ll just have to hope the Invisibility Cloak will hide us.

*that night*  
Harry: Jeez, who would have thought a large cage carrying a dragon would be so heavy?  
Hermione: Quiet. We’re invisible, not mute.  
Harry: Yeah, yeah…wait, I think someone’s coming.  
*McGonagall and Draco come around the corner*  
Draco: But Professor, I swear, Potter’s coming and he’s got a dragon. And I’ve got proof.  
McGonagall: If that’s so, then why didn’t you tell a teacher so that we could wait for him?  
Draco: And miss seeing Potter get in trouble? You’re out of your mind.  
McGonagall: Twenty points from Slytherin. Though I’m pretty sure Professor Snape will just award them back to you at the earliest convenience. *leaves with Draco*  
Hermione: This is the greatest day ever.  
Harry: Hermione, we have a dragon to get rid of.

*on the roof*  
Harry: Where are they? Can’t they see us?  
Hermione: No, they can’t. We’re still wearing the cloak.  
Harry: Oh, right *takes it off* By the way, what’s your explanation on this?  
Hermione: Well, by reflecting light…  
*four people suddenly arrive*  
Stranger 1: You the kids with the dragon?  
Harry: Yep.  
Stranger 2: Sweet. Still young too.  
Hermione: So, do you guys, like, study dragons or something?  
Stranger 3: You could say that.  
Stranger 4: We really love dragons.  
Hermione: That’s good, because…  
Stranger 1: Really, REALLY love dragons.  
Harry: Oh boy, this is going exactly where I think it’s going, right?  
Stranger 2: Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your dragon.  
Stranger 3: With our penises.  
Harry: …Yep.  
Stranger 4: Well, bye.  
*the four of them flew away with Norbert*  
Harry: I’m starting to wonder whether the dragon would be better with Hagrid or them.  
Hermione: Who cares? We got rid of it, and Malfoy’s got detention. Happy days. Now, let’s get back to bed.

*at the bottom of the stairs*  
Filch: Well, well. We are in trouble aren’t we?  
Harry: Don’t worry Hermione, we’re under the Invisibility Cloak. He can’t see us.  
Hermione: Actually Harry, you left that on the roof.  
Harry: Well shit.


	15. The Taboo Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you go down to the woods today...you'll probably be murdered by about nineteen different things. It's like Australia in there.

Hermione: Thisisbadthisisbadthisisbadthisisbad…  
Harry: No shit Hermione.  
Filch: Both of you shut up and wait for Professor McGonagall. Speaking of which, here she is.  
*McGonagall arrives with Neville*  
Harry: Neville, what the fuck are you doing here?  
Neville: I overheard Malfoy saying he was going to get you busted with a dragon and I came to warn you.  
Harry: You thought that you could sneak around without getting caught?  
McGonagall: I could ask you the same question.  
Harry: Yeah, yeah, shut up.  
McGonagall: Scoffing at authority, eh?  
Harry: Oh, what are you gonna do? So far I haven’t gotten anything worse than a nasty finger wagging.  
McGonagall: Fifty points from each of you.  
Harry: See, you don’t have the…wait, what?  
Hermione: But Professor, you only took twenty off Malfoy.  
McGonagall: Oh? And how do you know about that?  
Hermione: Err, umm…  
McGonagall: I think I’ll be giving you all detention as well. Now get back to bed.

*the next morning*  
Gryffindor student 1: Hey, what the hell happened to our points?  
Gryffindor student 2: You idiot. They obviously haven’t added the points from the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff game yet.  
Gryffindor student 1: Dude, that game was two months ago.  
Gryffindor student 2: Oh, right. What the hell happened to our points?  
Gryffindor student 3: Hey, did you hear what happened to our points?  
Gryffindor student 1: No, what?  
Gryffindor student 3: Potter and a couple of friends were out after curfew smuggling dragons.  
Gryffindor student 2: Whoa, that would be hardcore if he didn’t cost us the House Cup.  
Harry: Damn it, how do they already know?  
Ron: Fred and George.  
Harry: And how do they know?  
Ron: They saw you three coming back in at one in the morning. Then when they saw the scores, they figured I knew something and made me talk.  
Harry: Did you at least resist them under heavy torture for a while?  
Ron: *eye twitch* Yes.  
Harry: God damn it Ron. Anyway, what have they got against me?  
Ron: The evil one was pissed off you lost more points in one night than they’d lost in three years.  
Harry: Which one’s the evil one?  
Ron: I don’t even think they know.

*later, at Quidditch practice*  
Harry: So, uh, Wood.  
Oliver: Yes Seeker?  
Harry: I’m guessing you’re not too happy with me right now.  
Oliver: Absolutely livid.  
Harry: So, if I were to resign…  
Oliver: No.  
Harry: Come again?  
Oliver: Well, for one thing, it’s too late in the season to train a new Seeker. On top of that, despite your obvious handicap, you’ve proven to be one of the best Seekers ever. You’ve fucked up big time, but at this point if anyone can unfuck the situation, it’s you.  
Harry: Wow, I didn’t know you had that much faith in me.  
Oliver: And because your reputation’s in the toilet, I’ll get all the credit for keeping you.  
Harry: Still the nicest thing that’s been said to me this week.

*later, in the castle*  
Harry: I need to stop meddling in things that don’t concern me. Stupid main character obligations *hears someone sobbing* I’ve gotta go check that out, don’t I? *finds himself outside the classroom it’s coming from* Yep *listens carefully to what’s being said* Is that Quirrell?  
Quirrell: B-b-but master, I don’t want to…  
???: You must.  
Quirrell: But I…  
???: You will do as I say.  
Quirrell: Y-y-yes master *sound like material moving*  
Harry: *thoughts* Oh God, Snape has broken Quirrell. And now they’re fucking not ten feet away from me*

*later, in the library*  
Harry: Well, the Stone’s fucked.  
Ron: I’ve been saying that for weeks.  
Harry: Yeah, but now Snape’s fucked Quirrell. In more ways than one.  
Hermione: Should we tell someone?  
Harry: Hermione, I don’t like him either, but we should still let Snape come out when he’s…oh, you’re talking about the other way Quirrell’s been fucked. Nah, we’d get in more trouble for something Hagrid did.

*the next day*  
Harry: Ah, what a beautiful day *sees owl holding a note* What’s this? “Your detention is tonight at eleven. Meet Mr. Filch in the Entrance Hall.” So they’re punishing being out of bed by making us stay out of bed. Perfect sense.

*that night*  
Filch: Hello children. Ready for me to punish you?  
Harry: Are we gonna hear stories about your pussy?  
Filch: Yes *All four gulp* On the way to your detention.  
Draco: Can’t we at least use memory charms afterwards?  
Filch: No.  
Draco: How dare you traumatise me? I’m gonna tell my father about this.  
Filch: And then I’ll get to tell him why you were here in the first place.  
Draco: I…damn it.

*later, as Filch leads them towards Hagrid’s*  
Filch: And that’s how I clean my pussy every week. Okay we’re here.  
Harry: Thank Christ.  
Filch: Alright Hagrid, they’re all yours. I’ll be back for the remains in the morning.  
Hermione: What was that last part?  
Hagrid: No talkin’. Yer here coz ye broke the school rules.  
Harry: We were breaking them because of you.  
Hagrid: No backchat. We’re going into the woods.  
Neville: You’re kidding, right?  
Hagrid: Does this look like the face of someone kiddin’?  
Draco: No, it looks like the face of a drunk.  
Harry: Speaking of which, how much have you had?  
Hagrid: Only twelve.  
Hermione: Well, on someone his size, twelve beers probably doesn’t affect him that much.  
Hagrid: No, I mean twelve six-packs.  
Harry: How the fuck are you making words still?  
Hagrid: Quiet *pulls out a crossbow* We got a unicorn ta find.  
Harry: Unicorn hunting? Best detention ever.  
Hagrid: No ‘arry. This one’s been wounded.  
Harry: Couldn’t quite finish the job, eh?  
Hagrid: No, somethin’ else got it first.  
Harry: And you’re just taking credit for someone else’s effort? I can’t think of anyone who would intentionally ruin someone’s hard work for their own enjoyment *looks out through the computer screen at me*  
Hagrid: Look, somethin’s killed one unicorn and wounded another, and we gotta help or kill the wounded one. Hopefully the latter, because they make a great stew. Now, who’s with me and who’s with Fang?  
Draco: Dibs on Fang.  
Hagrid: Okay, but he’s quite the coward.  
Draco: And you’re trusting him with my life?  
Hagrid: Yours and Neville’s.  
Hermione: That seems like a disaster waiting to happen.  
Hagrid: Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?  
Neville: Combine every horror movie you’ve ever seen into one. That’s what could happen.  
Hagrid: Never seen a movie, therefore nothing’s gonna happen. Let’s go.

*later, in the forest*  
Harry: You know, I was led to believe this place was dangerous, but it’s really not that bad.  
Hagrid: Yeah, it’s perfectly BOTH OF YOU ‘IDE RIGHT NOW! *throws Harry and Hermione behind a tree and holds the crossbow in front of him*  
Hermione: Can you see what it is?  
Harry: It’s…it’s…a squirrel.  
Hermione: Oh, so no cause for alarm.  
Hagrid: DIE MOTHERFUCKER *fires seventeen bolts into it*  
???: Slightly overkill, isn’t it Hagrid? *centaur walks into clearing*  
Hagrid: I guess Ronan. Only really need eleven to kill something this small.  
Ronan: Are those children over there yours?  
Hagrid: Students from the school on detention.  
Ronan: Oh thank God they’re not yours. You and procreation don’t mix.  
Hagrid: Hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t exist.  
Ronan: My point exactly.  
Hagrid: Anyway, have you seen a wounded unicorn around here?  
Ronan: Hey Bane, have you seen a wounded unicorn around here?  
Bane: *offscreen* Nah, I’ve been watching those red sparks over there.  
Hagrid: What? No way. How could that matchup have possibly failed?  
Harry: You put a bully and his victim together and expect nothing to go wrong?  
Hagrid: Yes.  
Harry: …I actually expected you to realise the flaw in that.  
Hagrid: Well, I better go see what happened. You two stay here with Ronan and Bane.  
Hermione: They already left.  
Hagrid: Well then just stay here anyway *leaves*  
Harry: So, centaurs. Explanation?  
Hermione: Genetic fusion between a man and a horse.  
Harry: That seemed too simple.

*Hagrid returns*  
Hagrid: Well, Malfoy was being a dick, so I dragged Neville here, so Harry’ll have to go with ‘im.  
Harry: Okay, so I assume you’re leaving Hermione and Neville here while you take me to Malfoy?  
Hagrid: Nope, you’re on your own.  
Neville: Nice knowing you Harry.

*with Malfoy*  
Draco: Scared, Potter?  
Harry: No.  
Draco: How dare you? I’ll tell my father about this.  
Harry: I’m sure you will.  
Draco: Screw you.  
Fangirls: Please do.  
Harry: Wait, what’s that? *sees dead unicorn* I think we found it.  
Draco: And so did that *hooded figure steps out from behind trees, pulls out a bendy straw, and starts drinking unicorn’s blood* Should we get out of here?  
Harry: Scared Malfoy?  
Draco: HOW DARE *sees hooded figure staring at them* OH SHIT! *runs away*  
Harry: *backing away* Now, look, I didn’t see anything, so if you could find it in your heart to let me go *Harry’s scar starts hurting, making him collapse*  
???: En garde, vile fiend *hoof stamping nearby* Take that, and this, and some of that. Haha, I win.

*Harry recovers vision*  
Harry: Who are you?  
Firenze: I am Firenze, the mighty centaur warrior, and I just drove that horrid monster away.  
Harry: But I didn’t hear anything that sounded like you hitting it.  
Firenze: That’s because he fled at the sight of me.  
Harry: Then why bother with the yelling?  
Firenze: Because I, Firenze the mighty centaur warrior, must put on a good show, even if my opponent backs down.  
Harry: Right…don’t suppose you know the way back to Hagrid do you?  
Firenze: Indeed I do child. Come, I’ll give you a lift.  
Harry: No, no, I can walk *Firenze throws him onto his back* WHOA! *Firenze charges through the trees at high speed*  
Firenze: We’ll be there soon child…oh, good day Ronan and Bane.  
Bane: Oh Christ, it’s Firenze.  
Ronan: We are so sorry kid. I can promise you the rest of us are nothing like Firenze.  
Harry: Yeah, I reckon there aren’t many humans like him either.  
Firenze: That’s right, there are none as brave as Firenze the mighty centaur warrior.  
Bane: So, are you looking for something, or…  
Firenze: Ah, yes, my quest. I must find Hagrid. Have either of you seen him?  
Ronan: Yeah, he went back with the other kids.  
Firenze: Thank ye, oh noble comrades. I shall complete my quest, and meet you back at the clearing soon.  
Bane: Please don’t.  
Firenze: Hang on child *takes off at high speed, Harry screaming all the while*  
Ronan: We need to get rid of him.  
Bane: We’ll think of something.

*at Hagrid’s*  
Firenze: Ah, Hagrid, I found a child by the name of Harry in the woods, which I am returning to you.  
Hagrid: No way. ‘arry’s right here.  
Neville: I’m Neville.  
Hagrid: Oops, wrong chosen one.  
Harry: What?  
Hagrid: Never mind. You’re safe, there’s a dead unicorn waiting for me to make stew out of it, and you need to go to bed.

*in the Common Room later*  
Harry: Guys, I really think we need to talk about the fact that something was drinking unicorn blood. Was it a vampire?  
Ron: Only vegetarian vampires drink animal blood, and they live in America. Anyway, do you know what happens when you drink unicorn blood?  
Harry: No. What happens?  
Ron: You don’t die, but you live a cursed life. Kind of a half-life.  
Harry: We need to let this thing drink another unicorn’s blood.  
Hermione: Why?  
Harry: Because that’ll be Half-Life 3.  
Hermione: Damn it Harry, this is serious. Clearly it was someone very desperate.  
Harry: Like Voldemort?  
*thunder and lightning are heard and seen*  
Hermione: Odd. There’s not a cloud in the sky.  
Harry: So we’re in agreement. Snape’s killing unicorns so Voldemort can be the first to play Half Life 3.  
Ron: That evil bastard.  
Harry: Well, he probably won’t be doing much more unicorn hunting tonight. Might as well go to bed and figure out what to do tomorrow *go up to his dorm* What the? My Invisibility Cloak? And there’s a note. “Just in case”. Well that’s convenient.


	16. Enter the Hole in the Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio go past Fluffy to stop Quirr...err, Snape, from stealing the Stone.

Ron: You think the Stone’s been taken yet?  
Harry: Ron, shut up.  
Ron: It’s a legitimate question.  
Hermione: Ron, be quiet. We’re in the middle of an exam.  
Ron: Why? It’s not like anyone can hear us.  
Flitwick: Except we can, because you’re not whispering.  
Ron: *notices everyone staring at him* Oh, right.

*later that day*  
Ron: So, about what I was asking…  
Harry: For God’s sake Ron, we can actually hear Fluffy growling from here *Fluffy’s ferocious growls are heard*  
Ron: Oh, right.  
Hermione: Now, after getting through Flitwick’s exam…  
Harry: During which Seamus tried to use the Engorgio charm on his dick.  
Hermione: …we have McGonagall’s exam.  
Harry: During which Seamus will use the Draconifors spell on his dick.  
Hermione: Why would he turn his dick into a dragon?  
Harry: Hermione, please. Who wouldn’t want that?  
Hermione: *annoyed sigh* Men.

*the next day, after finishing their exams*  
Ron: Ah, finally, no more studying.  
Harry: I still can’t figure out how Seamus hurt his dick.  
Hermione: Are Fred, George, and Lee playing with the Giant Squid?  
Ron: Yep.  
Harry: Well, I’ve seen enough hentai to know where that’s going. But I keep getting the feeling we’re forgetting something about the Stone.  
Hermione: Like what?  
Harry: I don’t know, but my scar keeps hurting lately, so clearly some pretty serious shit’s about to go down…wait a second…oh God.  
Hermione: What is it?  
Harry: I think Hagrid has ensured the Stone will be stolen. Come on.

*at Hagrid’s*  
Hagrid: ‘ello kids. What can I do for ye?  
Harry: Hagrid, are you and Dumbledore the only people who know how to get past Fluffy?  
Hagrid: *eye twitch* Yes, me and Dumbledore are the only two who know that playing music to Fluffy will put him to sleep…oops.  
Harry: God damn it Hagrid, who else did you tell?  
Hagrid: I don’t know who gave me the dragon egg.  
Harry: And you didn’t think it was odd that someone just happened to have a dangerous and, more importantly, ILLEGAL dragon egg with them?  
Hagrid: Should I have?  
Hermione: For fuck’s sake Hagrid.  
Ron: Great, now Snape’s gonna get the Stone for sure.  
Harry: We have to tell Dumbledore NOW! *the three of them leave*  
Hagrid: I wonder if I should have mentioned that the dragon dealer stuttered a lot? Nah, it’s probably unimportant.

*in the castle*  
McGonagall: What are the three of you doing inside?  
Harry: We need to speak to Dumbledore about something.  
McGonagall: *eyes narrowing* What, exactly?  
Hermione: It’s kind of a secret.  
Ron: About someone trying to steal the Philosopher’s Sto…*gets mouth covered by Harry*  
McGonagall: How do you know about the Philosopher’s Stone?  
Harry: He didn’t say Philosopher’s Stone. He was saying…err…Hermione, think of something.  
Hermione: The Philosopher’s Stove.  
McGonagall: Well, I can assure you, both the Philosopher’s Stone and the Philosopher’s Stove are safe, and in any case Professor Dumbledore has just been summoned to the Ministry of Magic.  
Ron: He’s already left?  
McGonagall: No, he’s still looking for the bathroom from the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff game.  
Hermione: That was three months ago.  
McGonagall: He’s very constipated. Now, go outside and play or something *leaves*  
Harry: Great, now how are we supposed to stop Snape stealing the Stone?  
Snape: Stop who from doing what?  
Harry: Fuck me sideways.  
Snape: If only your mother had said that to me…  
Harry: Say WHAT?!  
Snape: Nothing. Go outside and play children *they start to leave* Oh, and if any of you are out of bed at night again, I might take you up on that offer.  
Harry: Gross.  
Snape: And not in the literal sense.  
Harry: Thank Christ.  
Ron: Yeah, only I may do that.  
Harry: No you may not.

*outside*  
Harry: Okay, we have to keep an eye on Snape. Hermione, that’ll be your job.  
Hermione: Why me?  
Harry: Because a nerd hanging out in front of the staffroom isn’t suspicious. Meanwhile, me and Ron will guard the corridor.  
Ron: What will that accomplish?  
Harry: We’ll be able to see Snape go after the Stone and stop him in his tracks.  
Hermione: And if we’re caught by someone else?  
Harry: We won’t.

*in the Common Room later*  
Harry: We were.  
Hermione: Any more bright ideas?  
Harry: Yes. We go after the Stone ourselves.  
Hermione: But Snape said…  
Harry: Hermione, if we don’t stop him, the world will end. What’s worse: the apocalypse, or school?  
Hermione: Hmm, that’s a tough one…  
Harry: Damn it Hermione. I’ll go get the cloak and we’ll get going.  
Neville: Are you trying to make us lose more points?  
Harry: Not now Neville.  
Neville: I’ll stop you *raises fists* Come on, bring it on.  
Hermione: I’ll handle this.  
Ron: She’s gonna use the body binding spell, then explain how it works *Hermione hits Neville over the head with a large book* Or do that.  
Hermione: Come on, help me move the body.  
Harry: Hopefully not something we have to hear too many more times.

*outside the third floor corridor*  
Harry: Okay, we’re here. I brought the flute Hagrid gave me for Christmas to put Fluffy to sleep.  
Hermione: Let’s do this *pulls out wand* Alohomora *door opens. Trio see Fluffy asleep with a harp playing*  
Harry: Snape beat us here. Guess I won’t be needing this *throws flute away. Harp suddenly stops, and Fluffy wakes up* Oh come on.  
Ron: Do you have a Plan B?  
Harry: Yes *clears throat* I like big butts and I can not lie / You other brothers can't deny…  
Hermione: Damn it Harry, that’s not even…oh, wait, that one is out. Carry on.

*Fluffy goes to sleep, the trio slip past and jump down the trapdoor*  
Harry: Good thing they have a plant down here to cushion your fall when you land, rather than rocks to break the legs off potential thieves.  
Hermione: Yeah, that is…OH SHIT! *jumps up and gets away from plant*  
Harry: What’s wrong?  
Hermione: It’s wrapping you up.  
Harry: *sees tentacle wrapping itself around his leg* Oh no, it’s that thing that happened to Fred, George, and Lee this afternoon.  
Hermione: Relax, Devil’s Snare let’s go as soon as it violates you.  
Ron: Oh God, get it out of there. That place is reserved for Harry.  
Harry: Can’t you do something before it…okay, never mind, it’s already doing it.

*later*  
Harry: That thing was worse than any gym teacher, Catholic priest, mall Santa, or party clown ever.  
Ron: I need an adult.  
Hermione: Shh, do you hear that? *a fluttering sound is heard*  
Harry: Oh good, birds are gonna kill us.  
Hermione: Those are keys.  
Ron: Do you think one of them opens that door?  
Harry: No, it’s just there for decoration.  
Ron: Oh, okay.  
Harry: *sigh* Yes, one of them opens the door.  
Hermione: Which one though?  
Harry: Probably that one with a bent wing *grabs broomstick* As a seeker, I should probably be the one to catch it.  
Ron: We’ll help too *grabs a broomstick*  
Harry: Aww, isn’t that cute? You think you’ll be useful. Wait there kiddies, I’ll be back in a minute *takes off. Soon catches key* See, nothing to it.  
Hermione: Uh, Harry?  
Harry: What? *sees all the keys pointing at him* Well shit *flies straight at the door and jams the key in the keyhole* Why isn’t this working?  
Hermione: Harry, that key is shiny. The lock is old. Snape deliberately grabbed the wrong key to trick us.  
Harry: Son of a bi…*barrage of keys crashes into him, with such force that the door is thrown off its hinges* Hey guys, I got the door open.

Ron: Alright, what’s our next challenge? *sees Wizard Chess Set* Oh boy. The second greatest thing in the world after Harry.  
Harry: We don’t have to worry about this.  
Ron: Yes we do *jumps onto a knight*  
Hermione: No, really, we don’t.  
Ron: You two, take the places of that bishop and that knight.  
Harry: Ron, there’s a path around the board to an open door.  
Ron: Pawn, move two spaces out.  
Hermione: What do we do?  
Harry: Just roll with it.

*later*  
Ron: Yes, I know how to win now *takes one step forward. Gets taken by the queen*  
Hermione: Wasn’t he a knight?  
Harry: I think the queen just took him out for wasting everyone’s time. Come on, we gotta figure out what’s next.  
Hermione: Well, Professor Sprout must have been the Devil’s Snare. The keys were…  
Harry: Madam Hooch.  
Hermione: I was gonna say Flitwick charmed them.  
Harry: That’s just stupid. Why would he make his trap so similar to Quidditch?  
Hermione: Whatever. The chess pieces must have been…  
Harry: A fun break after being chewed on by a three-headed dog, molested by a tentacle, and stabbed by keys.  
Hermione: Or McGonagall’s trap.

Harry: So next up we have…*sees dead troll* Snape obviously put another troll in here.  
Hermione: Or this is Quirrell’s trap.  
Harry: Come on Hermione. The other two traps you got wrong were bad enough, but why would you even think that one? That would imply Quirrell let the troll in, and could you imagine him trying to be evil?  
Hermione: I know it sounds stupid, but…  
Harry: Exactly. Now come on, what’s next *enters room with table full of potions. Ring of fire immediately encircles them* Can we do a Johnny Cash reference here?  
Hermione: Shut up Harry, I’m trying to crack Snape puzzle.  
Harry: Why would there be two Snape traps in a row? Unless Snape rigged it that way so that it would be easier for him to get the Stone. Jeez, gotta hand it to him, he was organised.  
Hermione: Harry, if I don’t solve this, we could end up drinking poison.  
Harry: Hermione, clearly Snape would have drunk the potion to continue, so the nearly empty one has to be the right one.  
Hermione: Not necessarily. He might not have filled all the vials to the top. Now, let’s see *a minute of thinking later* I’ve got it! It’s the third from the left…Harry? *sees the vial is empty* Goddamn it Harry*

*in the next chamber*  
Harry: HA! Got you now Sna…You’re not Snape.


	17. The Male with Multiple Personalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Harry fights Quirrell, yada yada yada, you know what happens.

Quirrell: Indeed Potter, I’m not Snape.  
Harry: Thank God, that means Snape didn’t get in here first, and the Stone is in the safe, capable hands of…Why aren’t you stuttering?  
Quirrell: Because, dear boy, I am about to get my hands on the Philosopher’s Stone, and bring back my lord and master to kill you. MWAHAHAHAHA!  
Harry: Wow, and I thought Snape was a dick for praying I’d fall.  
Quirrell: What? No, he was muttering the counter-curse so that I didn’t throw you off your broomstick sooner. Who told you he was praying?  
Harry: Because Hermione said…oh, wait. Never mind. So...what now? *ropes shoot out of nowhere and tie him up* Oh come on. The Devil’s Snare already did this to me.  
Quirrell: Shut up boy. Can’t you see I’m trying to get the Stone out of this mirror? All I’ve gotten so far is this rusty old stove.  
Harry: And McGonagall thought it was safe. Wait, mirror? *sees the Mirror of Erised* Oh, that.  
Quirrell: You know it?  
Harry: N…no. Wait, so if Snape isn’t the bad guy, how come he hates me?  
Quirrell: Because your father was a complete ass to him.  
Harry: Yeah, that’d do it. Though it doesn’t explain why the two of you did it in a classroom.  
Quirrell: Say what?  
Harry: You know, you told your master that you didn’t want to, and Snape was all like “DO AS I SAY”, and you were…that was Voldemort wasn’t it?  
Quirrell: Yep.  
Harry: How the hell can the most evil wizard of all time, in a dramatically weakened state, just stroll on into the castle and nail one of the teachers with no-one batting an eyelid?  
Quirrell: That’s…not quite how it works *starts taking off his turban*  
Harry: How can that not be how it works *sees a face on the back of Quirrell’s head* What the fuck is that?

Voldemort: Hello Harry. Remember me?  
Harry: No. The last time we met was when I was a year old.  
Voldemort: That didn’t seem to stop you ruining my life.  
Harry: Well, you did murder lots of innocent people.  
Voldemort: I had a good reason.  
Harry: And what was that?  
Voldemort: I was bored.  
Harry: …yeah, I’m gonna go now *tries to walk, falls over* Oh, right, ropes.  
Voldemort: Now Harry, you’re going to come over here and tell us how to get the Stone.  
Harry: And why would I do that?  
Voldemort: So that I can gain immortality from it and kill you.  
Harry: You see, that’s the main reason I’m not going to do that.  
Voldemort: Come on, I’ll make you my second in command.  
Harry: Okay, first: you already said you were going to kill me. Second: I already kicked your ass once as a baby when you were at your full power. Why would I want to be second to you when you need to leech off someone else?  
Voldemort: DO IT! Just…DO IT!  
Harry: No Shia.  
Voldemort: *annoyed sigh* Fine. I won’t kill you.  
Harry: See, was that so hard?  
Voldemort: *muttering* For now.  
Harry: What?  
Voldemort: I said for now. Now get that Stone *controls ropes so that they fling Harry in front of the mirror* Well, what do you see?  
Harry: I see… *sees himself putting the Stone in his pocket, then feels something appear in his pocket* I see me getting the fuck out of here *starts running*

Voldemort: STOP HIM!  
Quirrell: Yes master *makes flames appear around the room* Anything else?  
Voldemort: Get the fucking stone you idiot.  
Quirrell: Oh, right *grabs Harry. Pulls back in agony*  
Voldemort: Why are you not killing him and getting the Stone?  
Quirrell: But master, my hands.  
Voldemort: Fuck your hands. I need to rise to power again.  
Quirrell: *sigh* Yes master *grabs Harry again, jerks back in pain again*  
Voldemort: Kill him damn it.  
Harry: Good idea *grabs Quirrell’s face*  
Quirrell: AHHH! Let me go, or I’ll lick you.  
Harry: Do it.  
Quirrell: Fine *licks Harry’s hand* AHHH! My tongue *dies*  
Harry: And just like that, I’m a criminal. I thought I’d feel more guilt over this, but instead I just feel dizzy *starts to wobble* Ugh, down I go *passes out*

*three days later*  
Harry: Ugh…where am I?  
Dumbledore: I was hoping you could tell me.  
Harry: Professor Dumbledore?  
Dumbledore: Where? …oh, wait, that’s me.  
Harry: Okay…I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could tell me what happened?  
Dumbledore: You mean about you killing a man after he touched you without your permission?  
Harry: Yeah…what’s the deal with that by the way?  
Dumbledore: You defeated him with the power of love.  
Harry: …You’re fucking kidding, right?  
Dumbledore: Nope, that’s what happened.  
Harry: So, if you love someone enough, you can protect them, right? I guess this will come up constantly throughout the series.  
Dumbledore: Nope.  
Harry: So, I’m guessing that only important people know what happened.  
Dumbledore: Nope.  
Harry: And no-one knows who sent me my father’s Invisibility Cloak?  
Dumbledore: Nope…oh, wait, that was me.  
Harry: And you didn’t tell me because…  
Dumbledore: I forgot to sign the note.  
Harry: Of course you did. So, what happened to the Stone?  
Dumbledore: We destroyed it.  
Harry: So Nicolas Flamel’s going to die?  
Dumbledore: Yep.  
Harry: Excellent. Now he can’t sue us for using him as an important character in this fanfic. So, obviously Voldemort only wanted me dead because he’s a homicidal maniac…  
Dumbledore: *eye twitch* Yes.  
Harry: …so the only question left is why Snape tried to save me when he hates me so much.  
Dumbledore: Because your father saved his life.  
Harry: Does nobody understand love and hate in this series?  
Dumbledore: Well, I need to go to the bathroom, so…  
Harry: Still?  
Dumbledore: Nope, pooped down the trapdoor. Managed to do it to the rhythm of Achy Breaky Heart too.  
Harry: And I’m stuck with that image in my head. So, how did I get the Stone from the mirror?  
Dumbledore: Because it would only go to one who wanted to find it but not use it.  
Harry: Who said I wouldn’t have used it? I would have gotten immortality and made fun of Voldemort to his face…on the back of someone else’s face.

*later*  
Pomfrey: I said your friends can’t come in, and that’s FINAL! *slams door on the way out*  
*Hermione and Ron appear from under the Invisibility Cloak*  
Harry: Good to see you obeying the rules Hermione.  
Hermione: I need to have a closer look at such a fascinating invention. Also, I think I deserve to have a go woth this after you ditched me in the Potion room.  
Ron: But don’t worry Harry, I forgive you for leaving my unconscious body in the chess room. I don’t even mind what you did to it.  
Harry: I didn’t do anything to it.  
Ron: *winking* Sure you didn’t.  
Harry: So, how did I end up here?  
Hermione: Well, just after me and Ron came out of the trapdoor, Dumbledore burst in screaming “FIRE IN THE HOLE” and squatted over the hole…  
Ron: Best Achy Breaky Heart cover ever.  
Hermione: While he was crapping out everything not strapped down in his body, we explained what happened, and he went in after you.  
Harry: Before or after he finished shitting?  
Hermione: Yes.  
Harry: The physics of what you just said are equally mind-boggling and disgusting.

*the next day*  
Pomfrey: NO! No guests.  
Hagrid: I’d like to see ye stop meh *walks into the room* ‘ello ‘arry, sorry ‘bout the whole getting ye almost killed thing. I’ll never drink again  
Harry: I can smell the liquor on your breath.  
Hagrid: Brandy’s not booze. Anyway, I got yeh a present.  
Harry: No, please, Hagrid, whatever it is, I don’t want it. I just ate *Hagrid gives him a photo album* Oh good, it isn’t a sandwich you’ve been keeping warm in your pockets.  
Hagrid: I’m still looking for that. I know it’s here somewhere.  
Harry: So what are the photos of? *opens album* …Mum? Dad?  
Hagrid: I knew ye’d like it. Sent off owls to everyone I could think of.  
Harry: This is amazing. Let’s see what else there is.  
Hagrid: Oh, wait, there’s a photo in there I forgot to take out.  
Harry: Why would you take out a…oh.  
Hagrid: Yeah.  
Harry: I used to think the magical moving picture thing was kinda cool, but not when it shows how much your parents like leather.  
Hagrid: Coincidentally, you were born about nine months after that picture was taken.  
Harry: I could have lived without witnessing my own conception.

*at the End of Year feast*  
Harry: Why are there only Slytherin banners?  
Hermione: Because we lost all our points by breaking the rules.  
Harry: But I burned the Dark Lord like he was a Winchester woman.  
Hermione: And there go the Supernatural fans.  
Dumbledore: If I could have your attention please *everyone shuts up* Now, why are we here? *no-one answers* Please, someone remind me.  
McGonagall: It’s the end of the school year.  
Dumbledore: Again? We just had one of those.  
McGonagall: Yes, last year.  
Dumbledore: No, I mean the one with the singing hat, and the…  
McGonagall: That was the start of the school year.  
Dumbledore: Again? We just had one of those.  
McGonagall: For fuck’s sake, just read out the house points.  
Dumbledore: Okay, let’s see…Hufflepuff are on three hundred and fifty two, Ravenclaw are on four hundred and twenty six, Slytherin are on four hundred and seventy two, and Gryffindor are on four hundred and eighty two.  
McGonagall: Um, Professor, Gryffindor are only on three hundred and twelve points.  
Dumbledore: And?  
McGonagall: I mean I know Potter, Weasley, and Granger saved everyone, but they also broke almost every rule the school has.  
Dumbledore: That’s exactly why they’re getting those points. Also, Nevelle Longbottom got a few.  
McGonagall: Why?  
Dumbledore: Because I laughed so hard at him getting beaten up by a girl that it unclogged the bowels. Now *claps hands, changing banners from Slytherin to Gryffindor* Let’s eat.  
McGonagall: *sigh* Why they let you be in charge of children is beyond me.

*on the train home*  
Hermione: So apparently every important character passed this year.  
Harry: Except Crabbe and Goyle.  
Hermione: Nope, they passed.  
Harry: How?  
Hermione: Snape gave them good enough grades in Potions to average a pass.  
Harry: That seems like a very bad system.  
Ron: I’m kinda shock at Neville passing.  
Hermione: What can I say, he was good at Herbology.  
Ron: Yeah, I guess. I mean, there was that funny looking tomato plant he started growing.  
Harry: For the last time, that wasn’t a tomato, it was…  
Hermione: Hey, King’s Cross. We’re almost home.  
*on the platform. Everyone tries to leave at once*  
Guard: Whoa, hold on. You can’t all leave at once. What would the muggles say about a thousand kids suddenly appearing out of a pillar?  
Fred: That’s what we’re trying to find out. Now move *leads charge through the barrier*

*in the muggle world*  
Ginny: Mum, look, it’s Harry Potter.  
Molly: Yes dear, and Ron’s with him.  
Ginny: Tell him I’m calling dibs.

*in the carpark*  
Vernon: See, told you it didn’t exist.  
Harry: Have you been waiting here since September?  
Vernon: Well, yeah. We weren’t going to be arrested for child abandonment.  
Harry: Did Dudley even go to school in the last year?  
Petunia: Of course not. We’ve been sitting here in the car for the last nine months. Seriously child, you make it sound like we did something wrong.  
Harry: You kinda did. Well, whatever, let’s go home. We gotta wait for Kieran to delay Chamber of Secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Things became a bit busy. Well, back to Total Drama, then (hopefully) Chamber of Secrets before the end of the year.


End file.
